


Contention of Mastery

by Mochas N Mayhem (KoohiiCafe)



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Alpha Harry, Alpha Merlin, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Future, Alternate Universe - Slavery, Child Abuse, Forced Prostitution, M/M, Omega Eggsy, Past Child Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Physical Abuse, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-18
Updated: 2017-11-07
Packaged: 2018-05-21 10:22:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 9
Words: 21,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6047977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KoohiiCafe/pseuds/Mochas%20N%20Mayhem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The boy was knelt at the door of the seedy little room they were in, toned body bent down over his knees, hands splayed flat against the dirty and ragged carpet. He held position in a way that should have been submissive and subservient, but there was an air about him that screamed rebellion instead. </p><p>An omega, Harry had the thought. An omega who, given half the chance, would fight tooth and nail to tear apart every single person in the room.</p><p>He'd been sent to find the source of those damned chips. Instead, he'd found a treasure of far more worth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Don't ask me where exactly this AU came from, it's kind of a mish mash of ideas that settled into my mind and took on a life of their own. Bear with me?

The boy was knelt at the door of the seedy little room they were in, toned body bent down over his knees, hands splayed flat against the dirty and ragged carpet. He held position in a way that should have been submissive and subservient, but there was an air about him that screamed rebellion instead. A spark in the lovely green eyes that stared up at him in defiance, his scent laced with anger and resolute insubordination- and god, the way the boy smelled… A scent like sweet peach and rich brown sugar curled together, with a sharp cinnamon edge to it. It should have been odd, contradicting, but it was...

An omega, Harry had the thought, unsurprising given the boy’s current position. An omega who, he also thought, would fight tooth and nail, and would tear apart everyone in the room given half the chance.

He was intoxicating, enough so that it was almost a battle to keep the flare of heat and desire the boy incited from showing in his face, in his posture, from lacing his own scent. Rather, he tilted his head back, letting his face, his eyes, reflect nothing but utter disdain as he glared down his nose at the kneeling boy. His voice was stained with loathing as he turned from the doorway to the man he’d come here for, the repulsive creature reclining smugly on a tattered and dingy couch.

“ _This_ is what you have to offer me, Baker?” The words were a sneer, disgust written in them. Even seemingly focused on his contact, one Dean Anthony Baker, however, it was impossible to miss the way the omega at the door tensed at the question, the way he all but flinched- not in fear, but as if he’d started to move and forcibly stopped himself. Impossible to miss the fire those angrily narrowed eyes spit out, the way his scent flared with spicy enmity. Oh yes, the boy was certainly a fighter.

“He ain’t much t’look at,” Baker answered with a leer, “but trust me when I say he’s the most talented cunt I got in stock right now. I’ve had him for years, and trained him myself. Whatever you’re lookin’ for, this one can take care of ya. An’ if he don’t, well, I got him chipped.”

The words sent a wave of hot disgust and anger over Harry. Those fucking chips- they were the entire reason he was here, dealing with trash like Baker. The man dealt in them, among a multitude of other illegal cybernetic enhancement technology, and all their intel had shown that he was _very_ well connected when it came to his suppliers. Baker was their best bet at the moment.

It should have been unsurprising that the man chipped his slaves, given that knowledge, and it was. It was also enraging, especially faced with his casual attitude about it even in front of his slave. Abruptly, Harry made a decision. This boy, this omega with such a fiery spirit, who’d been under Baker’s thumb for god only knew how long… He was going to take him.

“If you insist it’s your best,” the knight drawled slowly, letting annoyed disinterest drip from his words, “then I suppose it is my due, pitiful as it is. I shall have it for my own, as a sign of respect to show that you are indeed committed to our new relationship.”

“Why d’ya think I offered his services to ya? I-”

“ _No_ , Mr. Baker. I don’t mean its services.” His voice was cold then, his own scent biting and overpowering, choking; his full focus was now on the tech dealer, his gaze sharp and piercing, _threatening_. “I have much to offer you and your operation in this endeavor, as you well know, but you have not much to offer me in return. As a way to make up for your meager offerings, you are going to give this omega to me; it will be my property, to do with as I wish.”

“What the hell do you want with a twat like him?” Baker replied quickly, all but physically backpedaling. “If you want more outta this deal with me, there’s other things I can give ya, Henry, but he’s damaged goods. You don’t want him.”

“You will address me as Mr. _Bright_ , as is appropriate for business.” The response wasn’t so much a hiss as it was a growl, the sound rumbling from deep within him. Harry stepped forward, allowing a brief glimpse of the danger that lay beneath the nobleman’s facade he wore, letting the tip of his umbrella punctuate the move as it thumped against the floor. “And unless you are telling me that you were offering me ‘ _damaged goods_ ’ when you offered the slave’s services, you will turn over the control code for its chip and I will be on my way.”

There was a long pause before the man bit back angrily, “ _Fine_ ,” and grabbed the tablet beside him to type furiously on it.

Or- _tried_ to grab the tablet, because moments before he could, the boy was suddenly darting forward and grabbing it instead, striking with a surprising kind of sinuous speed and grace. He was too fast for Baker to stop him, and then he was rolling away with it, to the far side of the room and up against the wall, eyes bright with fierce determination.

“You ain't givin’ me away,” he snarled, the words almost drowned out by Baker’s shout as the tech dealer surged to his feet, thick form shaking with rage. “I won’t _let_ you, ya bastard! I got a place here, wif my family, ‘n you ain’t takin’ me away from ‘em!”

“You little-” The dealer managed only the two words before he started to move forward, one meaty hand reaching for a blade holstered on his belt. He never touched it, because Harry’s voice rang out clearly, sharp and commanding, a tone _not_ to be disobeyed.

“ _Mr. Baker_.” He didn’t shout; a gentleman should never have to shout to be heard. Nonetheless, both Baker and boy froze instantly, and he continued. “That omega is to become my property. Should you somehow damage it, there will be severe consequences. Do you understand?”

The trajectory of the man’s hand changed when it immediately moved again. Seconds later, the boy was suddenly screaming, dropping the tablet and collapsing to the floor, both hands going to his head.

 _That fucking chip_.

Once they’d tracked down the origin of the damn things, Harry and Dean Baker were going to have a _very_ long ‘conversation’ about their use.

Maybe he’d implant the bastard with one, and show him how it felt.

As much as he loathed the things, however, he couldn’t protest its use; it would have blown his cover. Instead, he set his expression carefully blank, keeping his eyes focused on the boy. If he couldn’t stop his torment, he refused to look away, to act as if it wasn’t happening. Baker moved as the screaming continued, retrieving the tablet from the floor and typing away without ever stopping the chip’s effects. When he was finished, he shoved it at Harry, along with the small device he’d taken from his belt- the control for the slave chip.

Instantly, the moment it was in his hands, Harry looked down long enough to memorize the code before keying it into the controller; blessedly, the screaming stopped. The boy lay shaking on the floor, curled into a fetus position, hands still at his head. He couldn’t see his face, but the ragged gasping sounds of his sobs wrenched at something in Harry’s chest.

Oh yes. When this was through, he was going to make sure Baker felt the effects of the torture he’d put his slaves through.

The look he pinned Baker with was cold, furious, as he sneered; “Look what you’ve done to it. You’ve rendered it utterly useless; it’ll be hours before it can function properly again.”

“I’ll arrange to have the boy delivered to your car, Mr. Bright.” The words were forced, stilted and angry. Harry didn’t give a damn if he’d pissed the man off.

“See that you do, Mr. Baker.” He paused then, to pin the tech dealer with a most dangerous look. “And see that my property is unharmed when it’s delivered.”

Harry waited, until the man nodded, before turning sharply and exiting the room. He needed to get back to the privacy of the car. He had a discussion to have with Merlin- and Merlin no doubt had words for him.

* * *

“ _Have ye gone **mad** , Galahad?_”

Oh yes. Merlin had words for him. The moment he’d sealed the car doors, his bondmate’s voice was hissing angrily in his ear. Harry took a seat calmly, settling in comfortably, before answering. As he did, he leaned forward to pull a decanter from the bar set beside the seat.

“What would you have had me do, Merlin?” He was utterly calm, a not so unusual contrast to the Scot’s temper. He always did get worked up over Harry’s missions. “Leave the poor boy at that man’s mercy? You saw as well as I what he did to him- what he was _prepared_ to do had I not stopped him.”

“ _So you thought ye’d just- what? Pick up a new slave an’ take him home?_ ”

“I made a judgement call, one that I don’t regret it. Now if you’ll be so kind, I would like any records you can find on the boy.”

There was silence on the line- and then a heavy sigh. Good, Merlin had already done that much apparently. A moment later, he was saying;

“ _His name is Gary Unwin, although his preferred alias is ‘Eggsy.’_ ”

Silence again, and one that was thoroughly needed, because- _that name_. Harry _knew_ that name.

“You can’t mean-”

“ _I do. Son of Michelle and Lee Unwin._ ”

Shit.

“ _Shit_.”

“ _Aye._ ”

The omega- the boy- was _Lee’s_ son.

The knowledge brought back memories he hadn’t thought about in years. The memory of a young boy sat on the floor, quiet as his mother sobbed on the couch at the news Harry had come to bring. He remembered the boy’s eyes: green, like those of the boy tonight, and sad and sorrowful. The soft round face of a child who’d just lost a parent, who had to listen to his mother cry. He could hardly conceive that the sharp angled face of the kneeling omega was the same boy, and yet...

“How the _hell_ did Baker get his-”

“ _His mother, Michelle. She contracted herself into slavery a few years after Lee’s death. The contract was a good one, and should have protected the lad, but it looks like Baker had some kind of sway with the slave agency; they gave him contracts for both mother and child that left them with no rights at all. They’ve been his property ever since._ ”

“ _Shit_.”

His grip tightened on the snifter he’d poured himself and Harry downed it, because thinking about what that meant… Lee Unwin’s son, the son of the man who’d sacrificed his life to save Harry and Merlin and James… Harry had left him with his mother and hadn’t thought to check in on them, safe in the knowledge that he’d left them with a medal, that if they needed help, Michelle- or Eggsy- would make the call and he would be there waiting. _Instead_ , the woman had sold herself to slavery and condemned her child to it as well, simply because she was too proud to accept the help he’d offered.

And he had let it happen.

“I should have-”

“ _There was no way for you to know, Galahad._ ” Merlin’s voice was firm, cutting him off shortly. Harry inhaled deeply, shook his head, and the man continued before he could open his mouth to reply. “ _You gave her the medal. You couldn’t have known that she wouldn’t use it when she needed to. This is **not** yer fault._ ”

Harry didn’t answer. Not immediately. Instead he poured another drink, letting silence roll over them both as he swirled the brandy in the glass, sipping at it slowly. Thinking. It wasn’t until he’d finished it that he spoke again.

“We’re keeping him, Merlin.”

It wasn’t until after another, long, silence that Merlin answered, his tone resigned. “ _How did I know ye’d say that?_ ” There was a sigh, and Harry could just picture his face, the way he would be frowning right now, the crease in his brow, the way he’d rub one hand over his head. “ _I’ll let Arthur know and make the necessary preparations. Take him to medical once ye’ve returned, and we’ll proceed from there._ ”

“Of course,” he nodded. As he noted movement outside of the car, he added, timing it carefully, “He mentioned a family. Find out what it would take to acquire them as well.”

Then he opened the car door to allow one of Baker’s burly slaves in, the unconscious omega- _Eggsy_ \- held in his arms, effectively cutting Merlin off. As he directed the slave to lay the boy across a bench of comfortable seats, he had the feeling that, for better or for worse, his actions today would irrevocably change their lives.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, here we go! There's a little bit of world information in this chapter, and a little bit of headcanon on how Kingsman operates. There are footnotes at the end of the chapter for the titles and codenames mentioned.

“Absolutely _not_.”

The elder man’s voice was stern, firm, and unrelenting; it showed none of their king’s age, the man having become anything but weak as he progressed through the years. No, Chester King had only become more formidable since he’d taken up his crown, and since he’d taken up the mantle of Arthur as Kings before him had for centuries. The man sat- not on his throne, no, Kingsman business was never conducted in public, their existence a closely guarded secret- but at the head of the long, rectangular table in his private dining hall that served as their ‘round’ table. Harry himself sat at his king’s right hand, Merlin standing across from him and down a seat. Both endured King’s ire unblinkingly.

“It already is done, my lord,” he answered easily, his expression calm and serene, only lifting an eyebrow and tilting his head slightly. He could see, across the table, Merlin just managing not to roll his eyes at him, and he paid his bondmate no heed, secure in his position. Chester might be his lord and king, but Harry was a duke in his own right, and he had the political power to back him should it come to it. If King tried to go against him over an omega slave… well, if the man hadn’t been able to oust him from his seat and title for bonding with another alpha, he had no hope over a matter so trivial as a slave. “The boy is my property, and I will do with him as I please. If it pleases me to take him into my home, with the consent of my bondmate, then I shall.”

“You test my patience, Galahad, and you disappoint me. You are letting yourself fall prey to your nose and to base instinct, mistaking lust and pheromones as something of value in an omega slave. It’s no wonder, given your bonding situation, but I will not stand for it.”

The slight to his bond with Merlin drew a low growl in the back of his throat, the sound guttural and dark. King smirked at it, leaning back in his seat and sipping casually at the drink he’d poured himself. As if he’d somehow made a point, or won some debate, by eliciting such a base noise.

Harry didn’t give a damn what the man thought about the sound. Even the slightest insult to a mate bond could be cause enough for a duel; king or not, the man have should counted himself fortunate Harry only growled. He opened his mouth, a scathing comment ready on his tongue, but before he could get it out, Merlin’s familiar brogue rolled out.

“If ye think Galahad’s judgement was affected by the lad’s scent, _Arthur_ ,” he began, his voice low and calm with a solid steel beneath the surface, using the man’s Kingsman title as a weapon; Chester King could do a great many things to Conall Kincaid the man, but Arthur had only limited options against Merlin. After the briefest pause, Merlin continued, gaze boring into the older man, “then you are sadly mistaken when it comes to his ability to remain objective. However, yer ignorance of yer knights’ abilities aside, I support Galahad in his decision completely. Seeing as I have yet to physically meet the boy, ye can’t accuse me of falling prey to my ‘ _nose and base instincts_.’”

The look in King’s eyes held barely concealed venom, then, and it was Harry’s turn to smirk. Too often the man underestimated Merlin, too often forgetting how sharp the Scot could be when opposed, too mired in classism to see that a mere baron could be a dangerous opponent to a king. He was not, however, so senseless as to insinuate that Merlin might be blinded by their bond; it was a mistake the man had made once, shortly after their bonding. He had never made such a mistake again.

“I will cede to your judgement then, Merlin. I will allow the slave to stay, so long as certain conditions are observed.” King paused, sharp blue eyes unclouded with age seeking first Merlin, then Harry himself. It was upon Harry that that gaze remained pinned when he spoke once more. “You are not to remove the slave to your home; there is too much risk of a security breach to do so. He will be confined to headquarters, specifically to medical for the time being. Additionally, you will leave the controller and his code with me.”

Another pause, to ensure they understood. Harry’s nostrils flared minutely, his lips thinning and pressing flat with displeasure and anger, but he nodded. That much he would have to give the man- for now. Only after he nodded did King continue. “The slave chip will not be removed; we have a unique opportunity with the boy to examine the technology while it is active and implanted within him. I will grant the Sisters of Avalon* permission to study the chip; how it works, how it interacts with his-”

“ _You cannot_ -”

“ _Sit_ , Galahad.” The order was sharp, cutting, and danger rolled out from the king as the air thickened with the scent of him; it was only then that Harry realized he had moved as if to rise, hands gripped at the edge of the table, fingers bent tightly to its polished surface. Merlin sent him a pointed look, an unspoken warning in his eyes. ‘ _Pick your battles_ ,’ it read. ‘ _Trust me, I’ll handle this_.’ He swallowed back a low growl and slowly settled himself once more into his seat.

“Arthur-” Merlin began, only to be cut off immediately.

“The Sisters will be given full discretion over how they handle their study of the chip as long as the slave is not permanently harmed. When not under study, if medical gives him leave, he may stay in the slave quarters. If you wish to keep the boy, these are the terms you will accept.”

It was Merlin who answered, with a curt, “Understood.”

“Good. Dismissed.”

Harry rose and, without so much as a backwards look or a bow to his king, walked out. Merlin’s footsteps echoed on the floor behind him, sharp and clicking, precise. Neither of them stopped, neither spoke a word, not while they were still on royal grounds. King’s eyes and ears were everywhere here, no place safe for privacy. No, the only place they could retreat for now would be at Headquarters itself to find the privacy of Merlin’s heavily guarded office.

The mere minutes it took to get there, even shortened as the journey was by Kingsman’s private matter stream, seemed to stretch out into hours before they’d made their destination, by the time Merlin’s palm against the scanner granted them both entrance and they filed inside silently. The scant few seconds it took him to key in the strongest lock code he had seemed to take even longer. Then, finally, blessedly, there was the quiet hum of the locks engaging, the _snap-hiss_ of the privacy shields activating around the room, cutting them off from the rest of the world.

Then, and only then, did Harry release his tight leash on his fury over King’s decision and his attitude.

“ _Tell me_ you were able to pull something off my readings of Baker’s tablet.” The words were hissed, dark and ominous. His entire body was tense, muscles coiled and ready to strike at a moment’s notice, but there was nothing to strike at. Nothing physical, no enemy he could easily disarm with a well placed blow. It was a battle on his bondmate’s homeground for now, a slow game of cat and mouse as they tried to pin down the monster behind the creation of the slave chips. And now- a fight against their own king, the leader of both country and Kingsman.

It would be far from his first tangle with the man, for there had been numerous differences between them over the decades since Harry had earned his rank within the Kingsman, but this one? This was different. This was personal, as it hadn’t been since the man had tried to break his bond to Merlin.

“The Ladies* are analyzing the data now,” came the answer, the other man’s voice tight as he moved to one of his many projectors, reaching out and flicking through the aerial display with short, practiced movements. “Nimue’s been working on it since yer mission feed ended, and she’d pulled both Viviane and Niniane* from their other projects to help as of when I left to meet you and Arthur at the palace.” He paused, leaning forward to examine a floating projection of data that Harry himself could make neither heads nor tails of, but it seemed to mean something to the other man. He frowned, swiped it away with a quick motion, and then shut the projector down. “They’ll let me know when they have something to report. Until then-”

“Until then,” Harry interrupted, his voice cold and angry, “if Chester thinks I’ll stand by idly while he allows _experiments_ to be run on Eggsy as if he were a common lab rat-”

“Have some faith, Harry. Ye left him under Tyronoe’s* care, yes?” There was a look leveled at him, both eyebrows raised, questioning. Harry nodded shortly in response, and Merlin continued. “He’ll be fine for the moment, then. Tyronoe’ll not allow any harm to come to the boy; remember, he’s an omega and was once a slave himself.”

“Tyronoe is not the one I’m concerned with,” Harry replied curtly, something like a low growl rumbling in his chest. The other man huffed out a breath, stepping away from his desk towards his bondmate, moving close enough to lay a hand on either of Harry’s shoulders.

“We’ll deal with Morgana when the time comes.”

Morgana*. Chief medical officer, First of the Sisters of Avalon, and staunch supporter and ally to Chester King. The woman was a menace, the tyrant of her realm who terrorized her underlings in a way that not even Merlin had ever managed to on his worst and angriest days. Tyronoe had a level head on his shoulders, and Harry trusted he would do what he could to protect the omega left in his care, but he was only Seventh of the Sisters. If Morgana gave an order, he’d be forced to obey.

“ _Harry_.” There was a hand on the back of his neck, a thumb rubbing lightly over the bare skin just above his collar. Merlin’s voice was soft, his familiar brogue thickening as it rarely did unless they were alone. “Be still. There’s naught we can do until Tyronoe’s cleared the lad for visitors. For now, we wait.”

Merlin’s head tilted forward, his forehead meeting lightly with Harry’s for a moment. The two of them rested there, for how long he didn’t know, heads together, Merlin’s hand on his neck, his own hand sliding around his bondmate to rest at his back. There was a comfort in the physical contact; in the feel of his bondmate’s firm and familiar body held to his; in the way with every inhalation, their scents curled together as one, warm leather and brandy indistinguishable from rich coffee, amber, and vanilla.

Wait. They would wait for now. Then, once Eggsy had been cleared, Harry vowed to do whatever he could to protect the boy. He’d failed he and his mother once; he wouldn’t do so again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> •The ‘ _Sisters of Avalon_ ’ is the codename for the head members of Kingsman's medical branch; in Arthurian lore, the Sisters of Avalon healed Arthur from a deadly wound. There are nine Sisters of Avalon total. The Sisters of Kingsman are ranked one through nine, with the First Sister as the head of the Sisters and the Ninth Sister as the lowest ranking of the Sisters.
> 
> •The _Ladies_ are three positions within Merlin’s department; _Nimue_ , _Viviane_ , and _Niniane_. These codenames come from three of the names used for ‘The Lady of the Lake’ in Arthurian lore.
> 
> • _Tyronoe_ is the name of one of the Sisters of Avalon.
> 
> • _Morgana_ (Morgan le Faye) was originally one of the Sisters of Avalon in Arthurian lore.


	3. Chapter 3

The last thing he remembered… _Fuck_ , pain, sharp and continuous, shooting through his head in measure beyond words, beyond comprehension, and _that fucking bastard_. A shudder crawled its way through his body at the memory, at the way even just the _thought_ of the memory sent echoes of that pain rolling over him, and it was nowhere near as mind crushing as it had been before, but it was enough to pull an unwilling moan from his raw, raw throat. _That fucking bastard_ had used the chip, and it was far from the first time he’d ever had it used before, but the bastard didn’t normally keep it _steady_. Not like that, not when he’d learned quickly that it was far more effective to use it in short bursts. Far more effective to sting his slaves quick and sharp, terrorize them with bits and pieces of pain, threaten and coerce them with pain that was terrifying- but not incapacitating. Because used in long bursts? The mind sometimes just shut down.

Why- why had Dean-

Where-

There was- where was he? He remembered pain, and then nothing. Nothing before the pain, not yet, and nothing after. There was- softness?- now? He wasn’t on the floor, the fabric beneath his cheek wasn’t the ragged and disgusting carpet of the flat, it was- smooth, and soft, and not like anything at home. Not like anything anywhere in the estates. More like-

He remembered a man. Tall, dressed in some kinda tailored suit that probably cost more than Dean could’ve afforded in a million years, more than even the richest toffs he’d ever been rented to could’ve afforded, and _fit as fuck_. If the bastard hadn’t been clearly arrogant, dismissive, _insulting_ , and one of Dean’s fucking clients, Eggsy might’ve wanted to climb the man like a tree… but he was all of that and more, he’d looked at Eggsy like he was used shit stuck to the bottom of his highly fucking polished shoes, and he’d been nothing more than another prick that was sure to be shoving his way inside Eggsy soon enough if Dean had his way. They were always like that though. Not like he’d ever had any different, not like he’d ever had the _chance_ to have- or be had- by anyone who _wasn’t_ someone in Dean’s long line of pricks and cunts to be serviced...

There’d been a man, some new fucking client and-

And he’d threatened to _take_ Eggsy. Like, take him permanently, take him away from Dean, take him and fucking keep him. And maybe he shoulda been thrilled at the thought, fucking happy that someone was going to take him from the prick who’d bought him all those years ago, and maybe any other slave _woulda_ been happy, but. He couldn’t. He _wouldn’t_. He had his mum to take care of, the baby sister she’d given him barely even a year ago, and there was no way in fuck he was gonna let some prick take him away from them, leave them defenseless against Dean and his mutts and pricks, cause if Eggsy wasn’t there to service them, then Dean’d make his _mum_ do it and-

And then _pain_. Pain, the fucking chip eating away at his mind, boring into his brain like it was taking him apart layer by layer, like acid dissolving his entire being into nothing, and then _black_. And now he was-

There was a beeping, somewhere, slow and getting faster, and there was movement as it sped. He was on a bed, there were wires hooked up to him, and there was someone moving towards him. He couldn’t help the way the heart monitor spiked further at the realization, his pulse racing as adrenaline surged through him, and he knew he had only a split second to act before the sound gave him away completely. Eggsy tensed, gathered himself as quickly as he could to move, and-

“You’re safe.”

The words were unexpectedly gentle, soothing and calming, as surprising as the hand on his shoulder was, and Eggsy flinched instinctively. Despite flinching, though, he found he wasn’t afraid; the gentle touch _was_ soothing, somehow. Or maybe it was the scent he found wrapping around him with that touch, something like honeyed milk that felt more comforting that he thought he should be able to feel, not with what he remembered, and yet… And yet…

“You’re _safe_ , Eggsy. It’s alright, you’re going to be fine.”

He didn’t know the voice, he didn’t know the scent, and that should have mattered, that should have set his teeth on edge, should have made him want to jerk away, escape, run, but it _didn’t_ , and he didn’t know why. His head hurt too much, too much to even want to try and figure it out, so instead he asked, his throat raw and rasping and aching at the effort,

“Where-”

“My name is Tyronoe; I’m a doctor and you’re in my medical bay. You were brought here after your collapse.”

The hand pulled away from his shoulder, and there was another rustling sound of movement. Cautiously, Eggsy opened his eyes.

The room was dimmed, thank fuck, the lights turned down, and part of him wanted to kiss whoever had thought of that, because he _knew_ what it felt like to come out of chip-induced unconsciousness to bright light, and it fucking _sucked_. It wasn’t too dim to see, though, and it was- fuck it was posh. Clean and white and filled with expensive looking medical machinery, more than he’d seen in his entire life. Not even when Daisy’d been born had he seen so much; the hospital he’d had to rush his mum to himself- slave or not, because Dean was too fucking drunk and hadn’t given a shit about the baby- had been run down, shabby, nowhere near as fancy as this. And there, off to one side of the bed he was laid in- the most comfortable bed he’d ever felt anywhere, _god_ \- was the man who’d been speaking. He was in a suit almost as sharp as the one the other man’d worn, with a long white coat overtop a thin frame, short dark hair, thick framed specs over dark brown eyes that slanted just slightly upwards. He was moving back towards the bed, a glass of water in his hand with a straw poking out, and he held it out to Eggsy; Eggsy grabbed it hastily, bringing the straw to his lips and sucking down as much as he could, as quickly as he could.

He regretted it a second later when there was suddenly a stabbing pain in his chest, following the cold water down. He sputtered, coughing roughly, and it was only the other man’s haste in reaching out to grab the glass that kept him from spilling water all over himself. The man gave a soft clucking sound as he set the glass aside and reached towards Eggsy, but his hand never made contact. Instead Eggsy jerked away from his touch roughly. The man ( _Tyro-something? The hell kind of name was that?_ ) settled for a look of something between understanding and concern instead, and spoke again.

“You need to take small sips. You’re dehydrated, and you need to drink water, but too much at once isn’t a good idea, as you’ve just seen.” He paused a moment, his eyes running over Eggsy, and before he could continue, Eggsy forced his coughing down to cut him off.

“Why d’ya care? Why the fuck m’I here?”

Because Dean sure as hell didn’t send him to a hospital. The arsehole would’ve sooner cut off his own foot than actually take care of his slaves when they were sick. Much less when they were ‘sick’ because he’d used the chip. And that left-

“Mr. Bright brought you to me. He was concerned for your health after your collapse.” The doctor’s voice was calm, even, and he even sounded sincere. Eggsy didn’t believe him for a second.

“ _Bullshit_.” He reached out to snatch the glass from the side-table it’d been sat on as he spit the word out, daring another drink- a small sip this time, because whether he believed the guy or not, he didn’t want a repeat of what’d just happened- before glaring up at him. “There ain’t no way that tosser gives a rat’s arse about my ‘health’ like that.” Not when he’d stood by calmly and watched as Dean turned the chip on, as Dean _left_ it on. More likely, the thought occurred to him, “He jus’ wants ya to check me out, don’t he? Make sure I don’t got any diseases, nothin’ he can catch if he fucks me.”

“That’s where you’re wrong; he cares a great deal about you. He must, because in all the decades I’ve known him, he has _never_ brought anyone home with him.”

The gaze the doctor had fixed upon him was steady, almost penetrating, and despite the comforting scent still curled around them both, Eggsy found himself unnerved by the sincerity in the other man’s eyes. Because- he couldn’t mean that. He _couldn’t_ actually think that the toff who’d taken him from Dean- from his _family_ \- could possibly actually care. No fucking way. Before he could give voice to the protest, though, the man continued.

“As for ‘checking you out,’ he has requested a full examination. _Not_ because he wants to ‘fuck you,’” the doctor paused again, his look firm, “but because you’ve spent the last- how many years has it been that you’ve been under Baker’s ownership?”

Another look, piercing, fucking flustering is what that look was, and then, again-

“It’s clear you have not received proper care during the tenure of his ownership. I need to ‘check you out’ so that a proper course of treatment can be drawn up for your recovery.”

The pause, again, was deliberate. Those eyes never wavered from Eggsy’s own. And somewhere, beneath the sweet honey and milk scent of the man- and _fuck_ , he realized belatedly, _that’s_ why it was so comforting, the man was an omega, he was an omega in Bright’s service and he was a fucking _doctor_ \- was something firm and steely.

“Do you understand, Mr. Unwin?”

Somehow, without any conscious decision on his part, Eggsy found himself nodding. _Fuck_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for the delay, guys. I am, unfortunately, not always the best at keeping up with ongoing... things. ~~Which is why like, 90% of my fics are short stories, and even the series are all short stories, I really don't know what possessed me to write an actual long fic.~~ It's also been kind of a rough time for writing for me, but. I know exactly where the next chapter is going, and I've honest to goodness got almost the entire fic blocked out in my head, and I'll try to get the next chapter out faster than I did this one, I promise!
> 
> ( _Also, I am the absolute worst at keeping up with comments too, although I love and read every single one of them! If you guys don't mind me taking forever to reply, I will make it a point to answer every one I get!_ ♥)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to [aphnxrising](http://archiveofourown.org/users/aphnxrising/pseuds/aphnxrising) for reviewing this chapter for me!

The first time Merlin physically laid his eyes on the boy he was fast asleep, curled protectively in on himself where he lay in the medical bed. In person it was easier to see how gaunt he was, the way his skin stretched tightly over a frame that, fully filled out, would be impressive. Not that he wasn’t impressive as it was, because he _was_. The fire he’d shown had been visible even through the limited perspective of Harry’s glasses feed, and that had been _before_ Baker had activated the chip. For the length of time the bastard had kept it on, torturing the boy… There were few slaves who could withstand it for that long, few slaves who could have remained conscious through that kind of onslaught.

“He’s remarkably resilient.”

Merlin turned at the omega’s voice, his tone that blend of soft and firm that the man so embodied. Tyronoe had been a palace slave once, contracted for a decade in service at the age of sixteen. He’d shown remarkable skill while serving in the royal physician’s wing, enough so that by his third year, Morgana had informed Arthur in no uncertain terms that she was taking him into her own compliment of Kingsman slaves. Seven years later, when his contract was completed, he’d requested to apply for the recently emptied position of Thetis, Ninth of the Sisters of Avalon. Morgana, classist and old guard alpha that she was, had tried to force him into another slave contract, claiming that an omega couldn’t possibly handle such a stressful position. It had been Harry stepping up to bat for him, having seen the man’s talent first hand over the years, that had kept her from succeeding, and he’d been granted the title of Ninth Sister, the first omega to ever hold such a position within Kingsman. Over the last decade or so, it had been his life saving work that had gotten him promoted first to Eighth Sister, and now to Tyronoe, Seventh Sister of Avalon.

“Aye,” the handler agreed calmly. After successfully calming Harry down enough that he was _mostly_ sure his bondmate wouldn’t do anything too stupid, Merlin had taken the time to read over the scant information he’d been able to dig up on the lad, and it had been grim.

The boy had been taken with his mother by Baker when he was ten years old, barely four years after Lee Unwin’s death, despite the fact that Michelle Unwin’s original contract had specified he was to remain free. Instead, he’d been registered as Baker’s property right alongside his mother. Worse than that, when Baker had taken custody of the pair they’d both been registered not as contract slaves, with a set date to regain their freedom, but as lifetime property. It was a sentence usually reserved for criminals, one that stripped the property in question of all human rights, and it had made Merlin’s blood burn hot at the thought. It had also sent a wave of guilt crashing over him; he might have told Harry that he wasn’t at fault, that he couldn’t have known, but he found he couldn’t take that assurance to heart for himself. It would have been easy to keep track of Lee’s widow and child, as simple as setting a tracking program to alert him to any problems. If only he had...

The lad’s records after Baker took ownership only got worse. There were records from the slave agency’s medical department, who were required to provide treatment to purchased slaves through the tenure of their contracts, which showed far too many visits during the first year alone. A broken arm here, a concussion there, a sprained ankle… The list went on, with each incident noted as ‘accidents’ occurring within the ‘normal recklessness of a child.’ Then, four years into Baker’s ownership, the visits had simply stopped.

That in and of itself was chilling. Even more chilling was the complete lack of records for two years, until police reports began to appear. Multiple petty infractions starting at the age of sixteen; drugs, burglary, assault, resisting arrest, solicitation, to name a few. Each one was connected with a charge of runaway slave. Every arrest paired with an intake photo. Every photo revealing bruises, cuts, scrapes, other injuries, all attributed to his criminal activities. Each charge was summarily dismissed and the boy handed back over to his owner for punishment.

Merlin had zero doubt that Baker had been behind it all. Merlin had zero doubts as to the types of ‘punishment’ the criminal would have inflicted on the boy for being caught.

And somehow Eggsy Unwin had survived all of that with a fire and rebellion and a desire to protect his family.

“That he is,” Merlin added softly, and then shook off the thoughts of the boy’s records. Most important in the here and now; “His exam. What did you find?”

Tyronoe came up beside him, calling up the boy’s file on his tablet and handing it to the Scot. As Merlin flicked the report up and into the air to review it, the doctor spoke.

“Severe malnutrition going back years- to his teens, at least, if not farther. Thankfully there’s been no permanent damage yet; we can adjust his diet, give him supplements, and get him on track. He suffers from chronic dehydration as well; less severe than the malnutrition, and completely treatable. Unsurprisingly, related to both of those factors, Mr. Unwin experienced late onset puberty, and his heat cycle is extremely irregular. As he recovers and his body begins to get the nutrients it needs, he’ll most likely go into a heavy heat, one that is both longer than usual, as well as stronger.”

“Understood.” Merlin’s tone was grim, his lips pressed into a tight, thin line at the information. “Suppressants-”

“Are not recommended,” the other man finished, his head shaking, and Merlin’s frown deepened.

“Thought not. Any idea how long it’ll be before he’ll go into heat?”

“If things go well- and I see no reason why they won’t- most likely within the next month or two.” It was Tyronoe who paused then, giving the Scot a careful look he couldn’t quite decipher. “There are multiple options for how to deal with his heat when it happens. Do you-”

“That will be up to the lad,” Merlin interrupted, his own head shaking. “I’ll speak with Galahad about it, of course; the boy is his, and the final decision will be his. I don’t doubt that his answer will be the same as mine.”

The omega’s eyes softened just slightly, only enough that someone who knew him would see it, and Merlin knew him well enough to catch it. Now he understood the look. Now he remembered what Tyronoe had dealt with when Morgana first brought him into Kingsman. He shook his head again, and added;

“Ye know us better than that, ‘Ro. I am not Morgana, and neither is Harry.”

“I know,” the smaller man answered, and he huffed out a soft breath before speaking again. “Arthur sent word that Mr. Unwin is remanded to Medical until he is given clearance to be released by one of the Sisters.”

It was a statement, not a question, but he could see the question in Tyronoe’s eyes. The thought forming in the omega’s sharp and quick thinking mind.

“That he did,” Merlin agreed, despite the fact that Arthur hadn’t phrased it _quite_ like that. The other man nodded sharply in return.

“Initial scans show evidence of multiple broken bones within the last decade, some of them repeated breaks. Without treatment, he would be at exception risk for further breaks or fractures; several sessions with a bone knitter, administered over a period of time, will greatly eliminate that risk. I’ll schedule his first session shortly, most likely later this week. I’d like to get more fluids and food into him before putting him through that kind of stress.” He paused, taking a deep breath and a moment to let Merlin digest the information, and continued.

“Scans so far have revealed no diseases, and no history of infections of any kind. Additionally, at first look, while the slave chip is implanted and active, there are no signs of permanent neural damage or brain damage from usage of the chip. We’re still awaiting results for several other tests and scans, but at the moment… I see no reason why he should remain in Medical.” The omega smirked slightly, meeting Merlin’s eyes directly, and he added, “By authority of the Seventh Sister of Avalon, I’m releasing Mr. Unwin into your temporary care, Merlin. You may remove him to quarters of your choosing if you wish, so long as he remains on headquarter grounds.”

“Understood.” This time, there was a crack of a smile tugging at the corners of Merlin’s lips as he answered. Their bases were covered, and Tyronoe was granting him leave to take the lad before Morgana was able to get her hands on him. _Good_. Nodding at Eggsy’s still form, he asked, “How long has he been asleep?”

“Roughly an hour,” the doctor told him. “When the examination was finished, I administered a sedative- enough to let him rest without disturbance. He won’t wake for at least another eight hours, even if he’s moved.”

Merlin nodded and, at the doctor’s silent nod toward the tablet he still held, reached to swipe the hovering reports back to the tablet’s files before holding it out to the other man. Tyronoe took it, bowed slightly, and took his leave.

Leaving him alone with the sleeping omega. With the enslaved son of his late recruit from all those years ago. The _abused omega_ who had led a life he should never have been abandoned to.

Moving to the lad’s bedside, Merlin inhaled deeply.

The scent of the medical bay was sharp and acrid, a familiar and hated scent that set his nerves on edge, but closer to the boy... The sterile medical scent gave way to the young omega’s own smell. Sweet and sharp, fruit and spice, interlaced with lingering fear and anger that was fading with his drugged rest. This close, Merlin couldn’t resist reaching down to the boy, stopping just shy of touching him, his hand hovering over the boy’s shoulder. There was something instinctive about the way he wanted to reach further, to cup the boy’s cheek, to lift his chin with a finger to get a better look at his face. Something instinctive that seemed to call him to _protect_ this sleeping lad who had led such a hard life.

The quartermaster stifled the instincts, burying them. He had no right to feel that way about the boy, no matter how much he called to him on some primal level the way no other omega ever had. Not when he had failed the boy so terribly, failed _Lee_.

He drew his hand back, taking stock of the boy. The rags Baker had clothed the boy in were gone, replaced by a fresh pair of standard Kingsman pyjamas, a fact that tugged slightly at the corners of his lips. Tyronoe had planned in advance, or he would have given his fellow omega one of the medical gowns instead. In the pyjamas it would be far easier to get the lad out without drawing far more attention than he’d like. As for _how_ to get the boy out…

A hoverchair would be easiest, and a quick glance around the room found one nestled in the corner behind the bed. With a slight smirk at Tyronoe’s foresight, he pulled it out and set it up to hold the boy. To get him into it, there was nothing for it; Merlin pushed the thin medical blankets back and gathered him in his arms. As he turned, lifting him from the bed and moving towards the chair, he realized-

Picking the boy up had been a mistake. His natural scent washed over Merlin, stronger than even before, filling his nostrils with every breath. The protective instinct he’d buried before surged again to the surface at the heavy scent of the lad, the warmth of him held in his arms. He closed his eyes without thought, meaning to center himself, and found instead it only heightened this awareness of the omega in his arms.

Putting him down in the chair wasn’t an option. He couldn’t- _wouldn’t_ \- regardless of how it would look for him to be seen carrying him through headquarters.

Swearing to himself, unwilling to imagine what Arthur’s commentary would be when word of the manner of Eggsy Unwin’s exit from medical reached his ears, Merlin pushed the hoverchair out of the way and made his way out the door and towards he and Harry’s personal quarters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone's curious, my mental image for Tyronoe is [B.D. Wong](https://78.media.tumblr.com/5fcb1b1c3fc596507326ecaecfb07cde/tumblr_o5jzj7Vjf91qg10vlo1_1280.jpg). Not intentional, or planned, I just realized that's who I was picturing as I wrote. I blame Law & Order SVU.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warning:** This chapter deals with Dean's acquisition of Eggsy and Michelle, and contains physical abuse inflicted on both of them. It's no more than the physical abuse we see from Dean in canon, but I don't want it sneaking up on anyone or triggering anyone, so please be aware of this.

The first thing he noticed upon waking again was the sound of soft tapping that filled the otherwise silent room; it was a steady, quick, staccato rhythm, like fingers on a tablet. The second was that the sweet scent the doctor had given out was gone, and instead... 

He was still in bed, still one of the softest beds he’d ever laid on, wrapped in the softest sheets he’d ever felt against his skin, but all of it was infused with a strange mixture of scents that made his skin crawl. It made his hair want to stand on end, sent a curl of heat rolling through his gut, and his fingers tightened against those soft, soft sheets, tensing where he lay. It was leather and amber, it was sweet brandy and coffee. It was _alpha_. And he was _surrounded_ by it, the scent wrapping around him in a way he knew far too well.

He was in _a fucking alpha’s bed_.

A shard of betrayal shot its way through his chest, as he remembered the doctor’s promise, those dark eyes kind as he told Eggsy that he was _safe_ , that he didn’t have to worry about anything. He was just giving him something to help him sleep. And Eggsy had been so damn tired, after the chip, and the exam, and he shouldn’t have trusted him, should’ve tried to run, but he’d looked so fucking honest and sincere that Eggsy had gone and done something stupid and actually let him administer the shot.

And now he was waking up in an alpha’s bed, instead of the hospital room he’d been in, and _he should have known_.

‘Course of treatment’ his _arse_. Eggsy’d been right the first fucking time.

He didn’t move. Didn’t open his eyes. Tried to steady his breathing. At least this time there wasn’t any heart monitor to give him away. If he was careful, the alpha he _knew_ was making those tapping sounds might not-

“I know yer awake, lad.” The voice was deep, thick with Scottish brogue, and oh so casual. The tapping didn’t even falter, still as steady as before, and _fuck_. “It’s no use pretending to still be asleep.”

How the _fuck_ had he known? And who the fuck was he anyway? Cause it wasn’t the doctor, with that accent, and it wasn’t the posh tosser who’d taken him either.

Whatever. Whoever the guy was, Eggsy’d been caught before he could even really try to fool him, and he didn’t fancy just layin’ there uselessly as if he was fooling anyone. Slowly he slid his eyes open, squinting in case it was too bright.

It wasn’t; the lights were dimmed here just as they had been in the hospital room when he’d first woken up. He was laying in the middle of a huge dark wood four poster bed, tucked beneath a luxuriously soft and heavy dark blue comforter with sinfully smooth white sheets. The walls were white, trimmed with elaborate molding, and there was a bank of windows to the left of the bed- all thankfully covered with heavy looking dark blue drapes that matched the bedspread. There was a sprawling desk that took up the far left corner, and off to the far right, a fire crackled in the largest fireplace he’d ever seen. It was there, sat comfortably in a dark leather armchair before the fireplace, that he found the man who’d spoken.

Even sitting it was easy to tell the man was tall, and well fit beneath the dark grey jumper he wore. He was bald, his face handsome behind a pair of specs, his attention seemingly focused on the tablet he held in one hand, long fingers dancing across the screen of it, one long leg crossed casually over the other as he sat.

And even from across the room, pushing up to his elbows in the huge bed, Eggsy could all but _feel_ the aura of command that the man exuded. Full of easy confidence and surety, the air of a man who wouldn’t be questioned or second guessed. When he gave an order, you obeyed, his countenance said, and the way he _smelled_ … Sheer power, sheer _alpha_.

There was no doubt the bed Eggsy was in was his.

It should have made him want to submit. That’s the way an omega was _supposed_ to respond to a man like that, to an alpha like that.

It triggered a rebellion within him instead, lit the fires of it, sent his blood pumping through his veins. Not in want, or need, or arousal, but in insurrection.

( _At least, that was what he told himself. There was no fucking way he was gettin’ turned on by some arse of an alpha. No way._ )

“Who the fuck’re you then?” he growled, and pushed himself carefully into a fully sitting position. His lips pulled into a snarl as he pushed at the blankets, feeling too trapped beneath them, between the posts of the bed, beneath the canopy draped over it. He wanted away from the scent curling so thickly around him, filling his nostrils, sending his blood racing even faster.

“Aren’t you the charming one,” the man snorted. Only then did he set his tablet aside, uncrossing his legs and pushing himself to stand. Eggsy tensed at the movement, more than ready to bolt backwards if the alpha came a single step closer. The man noticed, stopping where he stood, raising his hands, palms outward, as if he was trying to calm him.

“My name is Merlin,” he said, remaining in place, hands still held out. It was comforting, somehow, that he hadn’t moved any closer, and it was fucking _weird_. Alphas weren’t comforting, alphas were fucking wankers with their heads stuffed so far up their own arses they wouldn’t know the light of day if it bit them in the arse. Alphas were dicks, cunts, pricks, self important and egotistical, all of ‘em too selfish to ever care about anyone but themselves. There was no way the man had stopped for _Eggsy’s_ benefit. He’d probably only stopped because he thought Eggsy might attack.

“Like the wizard?” Eggsy asked incredulously, and he sneered. “Your folks musta hated you, givin’ ya a name like that. Bet you got teased a lot as a kid, yeah?”

“Hardly,” ‘Merlin’ answered back, rolling his eyes. Eggsy took the opportunity to run his eyes up and down the man, noting- no controller. He _didn’t have the chip controller_. Not unless he’d hidden it somewhere on him. “I’m yer new owner’s bondmate, and these are our quarters. I brought you here so ye’d be more comfortable than I imagine ye would be in medical. I haven’t stayed there much myself, not as a patient at least, but trust me when I say it’s not a place you ever want to stay for very long.”

“Ya mean you brought me back here so you ‘n that wanker can fuck me, right?” Eggsy fired back, eyes blazing. Refusing to show fear at the thought, refusing to be anything but a pain in the alpha’s arse as much as he could possibly be. Trying not to think about the fact that this man, this _alpha_ , was bonded to the alpha who’d taken him from Dean’s. Not because alpha/alpha bonds were fucking _weird_ , but because the thought of _two_ of ‘em…

One alpha he could handle. Had too many times to count. An alpha and a beta too, easy as pie. But an alpha and an alpha, both of them as strong as he’d picked up that the both of them were?

Merlin’s eyes darkened a shade, his brows drawing together, his lips twisting into a frown.

“ _No_. You weren’t brought here to be _fucked_ , Eggsy. I prefer my partners willing and wanting, not cursing and fighting, as does my bondmate,” the Scot growled, and the sound of it sent a shudder down Eggsy’s spine. One that he immediately pushed aside, refusing to acknowledge or think about.

“Sure didn’t sound like that when your ‘ _Mr. Bright_ ’ was blackmailin’ Dean into stealing me away from me family,” he spit back, eyes flashing. He finally kicked completely free of the covers and pushed backwards, to the opposite side of the bed as the alpha. “Sounded more to me like he just wanted a hole ta fuck, considerin’ he kept callin’ me an _it_.”

Oh, and if that didn’t strike a chord somewhere within the man, the way his eyes seemed to flare with some darkness. He took a step closer and Eggsy instinctively shoved off the bed completely, putting it between he and the alpha. The man’s scowl deepened, but he stopped.

“ _Harry_ -” he started, and Eggsy’s face twisted a little in confusion. Who the hell was Harry? Dean’d called the man ‘Henry.’ Although he guessed the names were interchangeable sometimes. “-does not think of you as an _it_ , that much I can assure you of. We-”

“Coulda fooled me,” Eggsy interrupted with a snort. He might physically backpedal from Merlin, but no way was he gonna completely back down. No way was he gonna be cowed by a sharp tone and a scowl.

“We knew yer father, lad,” Merlin continued, unfazed, and _that_. _That_ threw the omega for a loop. The Scot took advantage of his confusion, pressing on. “Do you remember the man who came to yer flat after yer dad died? He spoke to yer mum and brought a medal with him.”

The _fuck_? Yeah, Eggsy remembered it. He remembered it clear as day.

A big alpha in a suit had showed up at their door. His mum almost hadn’t opened the door for him, because he’d smelled- fuck, he’d smelled _powerful_. Even Eggsy, as young as he was, had been able to smell how strong the alpha had to be. And mum hadn’t wanted to let a strange alpha that strong into the house with she and Eggsy. Without his dad, without a familiar alpha- or even a beta- to protect them, it would’ve been dangerous for a lone omega and a six year old child. He’d said something, though, something Eggsy couldn’t hear, and it had made mum back up a step, her hands flying up to cover her mouth, and fear had flared through her scent. The alpha’d taken advantage of it, stepping into the flat and shutting the door behind him. Then he’d taken mum by her arm and guided her gently to the couch to sit before settling into the chair beside her. Then he’d started talking, his voice low and steady, although Eggsy’d been too focused on his mum to hear what he said, cause mum was crying. She was crying, and the alpha was holding something out to her, and saying funny words, words his mum’d made him memorize later, after the alpha left. But then and there, while the alpha was still there, she’d smacked his hand away.

The part he _most_ remembered about that day was when the alpha had come over to him instead. He couldn’t remember what the man’s face’d looked like, or the way his voice’d sounded, or really anything about him except the suit and the way he’d smelled. Because when the alpha’d crouched down in front of him, when he’d reached out and asked to see the snowglobe he’d had, that smell had curled around him thickly. It was all he could smell- the scent wrapped around him so tightly he thought he could reach out and _touch it_ \- as the alpha handed him the medal, and told him-

‘ _You take care of this, Eggsy, and take care of your mum, too._ ’

He’d lost the medal years ago. No, not lost- Dean’d taken it from him after he bought Eggsy and his mum. It had been on a chain, then, hanging around his neck, and he’d known something was wrong, known they were in trouble when the strange alpha had taken them away from the agency. He’d known because mum’d tried to fight back, had clawed at Dean’s face when the alpha’d sneered about getting two slaves for the price of one, and when she did, he’d hit her. Thrown her to the dirty floor, pinned her down, and started growling about putting omega filth in their place, and Eggsy’d grabbed his medal and tried to run for the nearest comm unit. He knew the words, all he had to do was dial the number-

Then Dean’d been on him in a flash, grabbing him bodily and shoving him up against the wall. He’d seen the way Eggsy was holding the necklace, and he’d laughed and grabbed it himself and ripped it off his neck, the chain snapping painfully against sensitive skin. The next thing Eggsy remembered was Dean throwing the medal away as he laughed at Eggsy, told him how pathetic it was that he’d tried to run, and then he’d slammed Eggsy into the wall again, making his head hit hard enough that he’d been knocked out for the first time in his young life.

Not the last time, though. Eggsy might’ve lost the medal, might’ve failed the alpha who’d given it to him and hadn’t been able to take care of it- but he could still take care of his mum. And he did. He’d spent the next thirteen years taking care of his mum- and his baby sister when she came along- by making sure Dean never hit her again, drawing the alpha’s wrath onto himself instead.

Until now. Until some fucking prick of an alpha had blackmailed Dean into giving Eggsy to him, and now his mum and Daisy were at the arsehole’s non-existant mercy.

It hit him suddenly. The scent curling around him now, laced thickly into the bed he’d woken up in. It was almost- familiar.

His voice cracked as he stared at the alpha across the room, and whispered;

“ _Oxfords not brogues_.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warning:** This chapter touches briefly on past abuse, forced prostitution, and child sexual abuse. It’s not graphic or detailed, but I don’t want it sneaking up on or triggering anyone, so please be aware of this. Additionally, threats of physical spanking are made during an argument.

“ _Oxfords not brogues_.”

The words were low, barely audible through the sturdy door that lead into the bedroom, but he heard them nonetheless. It struck a strange chord to hear them now, so many years after his visit to what remained of the Unwin family, when he had been waiting for so long _to_ hear them, and it gave him the slightest moment’s pause when he reached for the door. It was a reminder of how little he’d truly done for Lee’s family after his death, of how much more he _should_ have done. His fingers rested on the control pad of the door for that brief moment, long enough to hear his bondmate reply;

“You remember. Good.”

Merlin had contacted him over the glasses after he’d gotten their young charge settled in their quarters. He’d given Harry a brief summary of the meeting with Tyronoe, then assured him that he would sit with the boy until he woke. That had been almost ten hours ago, ten hours which Harry had spent buried deep in work, determined to find a lead, _any_ lead, that might help with the case. Any lead that might get this entire bloody affair over.

Any lead that would eliminate the need for any further interaction with Dean Baker, because once the man had outlived his usefulness… Well, it would be a lie to say that Harry wasn’t looking forward to that day.

More important than eliminating Dean Baker as slowly and painfully as possible, however, was this moment, and the boy he’d taken into his custody. His ownership. Harry keyed the door open to a choked breath from the opposite side of the room, stepping through the entryway with no sure idea of what lay beyond it.

The first thing he noticed was his bondmate standing a few steps shy of the bed, his expression calm, his hands held placatingly out towards it. The second, as his gaze followed Merlin’s, was the position the boy had taken on the opposite side of the bed.

If the omega’s stance at Baker’s had screamed of rebellion, now it screamed of confusion, defenciveness, wariness that bordered on fear. He was all but pressed against the wall and the drapes covering the windows, and Harry had the feeling that if he were able, the boy would phase himself through them to escape the room, to escape Merlin. As the door hissed shut behind Harry, the boy’s gaze- previously glued to the Scot- swung instantly to Harry, his eyes widening as he tensed even further.

“ _You_ ,” he hissed, his voice shaky even as he tried to project defiance and anger. Harry nodded serenely.

“Me,” he agreed calmly. Without taking a step further towards the boy, keeping his gaze locked with the boy’s vibrant green eyes, he reached to activate the lock on the door and the bedroom’s privacy shielding.

The boy opened his mouth to reply, and while Harry wasn’t sure what he expected him to say, he _certainly_ didn’t expect the next words that left his mouth.

“Lemmee guess. Did ya have some kinda black market deal with me dad? Did ya own him- blackmail your way into buyin’ him too, then get him killed? An’ now- what? Ya decided killin’ one Unwin and ruinin’ the rest of his family’s life wasn’t enough, ya had ta get your hands on another one to make your own?”

Harry had had gunshot wounds that were less painful.

His breath caught, and there was a moment of shocked silence. The look in Eggsy’s eyes was one of terrified anger, his chest heaving as he stared at Harry. Harry’s eyes slid closed; he couldn’t look at the young omega, not when the stabbing weight of his own guilt fell crushingly down upon him at the accusation. Never mind that it was bollocks, never mind that it was clear the boy was lashing out in fear, striking at the easiest target because it was the easiest way to deal with an uncertain situation. Never mind, because the boy wasn’t _wrong_. Lee’s death was on Harry’s hands, as was everything that had come of it.

“Oh _no, no, no._ ”

The room shifted, and without opening his eyes, Harry knew what he would see if he looked to his bondmate. The words were a sharp reprimand, the weight of admonition in his tone thick. _Shit_. When Merlin took that tone-

“Yer allowed to be afraid, lad. Yer allowed to be confused, upset, unsure. Yer allowed to be angry, even. But you will _not_ take that out on those around you. You will not take that out on _us_. Do you understand?”

“Merlin,” Harry began, opening his eyes once more to pin his gaze on his bondmate. Eggsy interrupted before he could get any farther.

“Or what?” And there it was. That defiant, rebellious spirit he’d seen in the omega kneeling upon the dirty carpet before Baker. “You gunna use the chip on me?” The words were a sneer, the boy’s entire countenance twisted with it. “Ya can’t, you don’t have the controller on ya, do ya?”

“No,” Harry answered, pushing aside the guilt, letting his voice sharpen. “At no point will either Merlin or myself activate your chip; you have my word.”

The words were carefully chosen, Harry fully aware that he couldn’t promise that the chip wouldn’t be activated at all. Not when Arthur held the control over it and intended to allow Morgana to experiment on the boy while the chip was active. He could see the realization of his phrasing roll over Eggsy when he turned back to him, the boy’s green eyes narrowing angrily.

“Nice way ta put it. Leavin’ it open for anyone else to turn it on, huh? I ain’t that stupid.”

“Yer not, no,” Merlin answered, his tone firm. “No one stupid could survive under Baker for as long as yeh have, especially not when he totes yeh as his ‘most talented.’”

Eggsy flinched at the statement; just barely, barely enough to be noticed unless one had excellent observational skills and was looking for it. Harry did, and was. His lips thinned when the boy replied sharply, cutting off any reply from either he or Merlin.

“Yeah, well, I had my mum to take care of, didn’t I, since you just abandoned us with nothin’ but a measly medal that got taken away soon as Dean bought us. Whole lotta good that did us, huh? So I did the only thing I could. I mighta been jus’ a kid, but I took care of my mum. Made sure Dean never hit her, made sure he had an easier target. An’ when that didn’t work, I made sure he didn’t have no excuse to hit her. Let ‘im train me up, did ‘is dirty work for him, did everythin’ he wanted me ta do. Let him do whatever he wanted to me too, even when I got caught an’ he had to come get me from the coppers.”

There was nothing in the boy’s tirade that Harry hadn’t already guessed; it didn’t stop each and every accusation from striking him like a bullet to the chest. And the boy was nowhere near done, never pausing for even a breath, never stopping long enough to let either alpha get a word in.

“An’ when I presented, when he realized he had an omega he could turn out? I let ‘im train me up there too, cause if I didn’t, he threatened ta make mum into his whore insteada me. Did the same when he got ‘er pregnant, an’ after Dais’ was born, I did whatever I had to ta make sure he never touched my baby sis either. An now ya’ve taken me away and just left ‘em at Dean’s mercy, my mum an’ sister both.”

“ _Enough_.”

Merlin was _moving_ , then, the air suddenly thick with the scent of his bondmate’s ire, stiflingly strong. Even just catching the edge of it, merely on the peripheral and far from the target of Merlin’s wrath, was enough to steal the air from his lungs; he could only imagine what effect it would have on the young omega the Scot was focused on. He’d been the target of his bondmate’s anger in the past, of course; the very few clashes he and Merlin had had over the years, fights that were more than superficial arguments often solved by a tumble into bed, were legendary. Harry was an alpha, though. He backed down to no other alpha, and he couldn’t be intimidated by an alpha’s anger; his instinctual response was to lash out rather than submit, fight back rather than give in, meet force with force. For an _omega_ to be targeted by that kind of wrath, an omega whose instinctual response to an angry alpha would be to yield, especially an alpha of Merlin’s caliber… Eggsy had a strong spirit, a powerful rebellious streak, and it was something Harry very much respected in the boy, but he doubted it would be enough to counter Merlin’s advance.

Merlin stalked around the bed, predatory, his movements powerful and commanding. With every step he took, Eggsy shrank back, moving backwards along the windowed wall until he was pressed into the corner. The boy’s breath came in short pants, his eyes wide, his body flattened as much as humanly possible against the wall, _frozen_ there. It didn’t slow Merlin in the least. As soon as he was within arm’s length of the boy, his bondmate surged forward to physically pin the boy against the wall, a strong arm pressing across the omega’s shoulders, just below his neck, to hold him there. The move bent the taller man forward, and he used it, getting right into the boy’s face, his eyes and tone hard.

“Yer right; neither of us have the controller. Even if we did, we wouldn’t use it. We are _not_ Baker, and we aren’t monsters. That does _not_ mean ye’ll be allowed to walk all over us, or that we’ll put up with the kind of attitude ye’ve shown.”

Every word was a demand, not cruel but unyielding. Every syllable was a command of obedience that brooked absolutely no argument. It was enough to make even Harry’s skin crawl from across the room. Alpha or not, it almost made _him_ want to submit.

 _Almost_.

“The situation yer in is precarious; it’s by Harry and I’s will that you are here safe and protected, not only from Baker, but from someone much more powerful. If at all possible, we’ll find a way to protect yer mum and sister as well. That protection is _not_ in question, no matter how yeh behave. That doesn’t mean there won’t be consequences for misbehavior.” There was a pause then, his bondmate stopping to stare into the omega’s eyes, to lean in even closer to him, searching for something imperceptible in the boy. Only when he seemed to have found it did he speak again, his words slow.

“This will be yer one and only warning, lad. You _will_ behave. You _will_ show Harry and I respect, the same respect ye’ll show to everyone else here. You will _lose_ that attitude, or you will be punished. Not with the chip, but with my hand.”

Eggsy paled, fear spiking through his scent strong enough to rise over Merlin’s, and the Scot continued before the boy or Harry could protest- because Harry intended to protest. Not to the terms, he was not opposed to or above physical reprimand, but to phrase it that way to an omega who’d been abused as Eggsy had-

“I will spank you, Eggsy. Not for pleasure, not because I want to, but because ye’ve earned it. I will spank you because you were warned what would happen if yeh misbehaved, and you chose to anyway. I will _not_ be gentle. I’ll not use a paddle, nor will anything but my own hand touch yer arse; I’ll spank yeh hard enough my own hand aches. I’ll spank you until yer arse is red and heated, and I will spank yeh hard enough that ye’ll not be able to sit for days without being reminded of yer punishment. I will spank you even if you cry; I’ll spank you until you apologize and ask me to stop and _I am satisfied_ that yeh mean it. If yer glib, or yeh give me more attitude, or you try to fool me, I will know and ye’ll be spanked harder for it. _Only_ when I am convinced you are truly remorseful will I stop. _Do you understand_?”

Silence reigned as Merlin stared the young omega down. It was a silence broken only by the boy’s ragged breathing, his chest barely able to rise and fall with it below where the alpha’s arm kept him held in place. There was a war taking place in Eggsy’s eyes, one that Harry could see from where he stood. Fear fought with anger; rebellion battled against something deeper, something that looked almost like yearning, followed by confusion; base, primal instinct struggled against years of ingrained attitude towards a monstrous owner. An eternity passed in barely a moment before the omega finally nodded the tiniest bit.

“Not good enough, lad. I want you to say it out loud. Tell me you understand, and _make me believe you_ ,” Merlin growled in response. It was the most primal sound Harry had heard his bondmate make in decades, and it sent a shiver down his spine.

Eggsy gulped, and answered shakily; “I understand.”

“ _Good_.” Another low growl, this time one of satisfaction. “I’m going to let you go in a moment, Eggsy. When I do, I expect you to go to Harry. I won’t make you kneel, we haven’t earned that kind of submission from you yet, but you _will_ apologize for yer outburst. If I’m satisfied with yer apology, I’ll give the both of yeh some time alone. If not, then ye’ll learn exactly how serious I was when I said I’d spank you. Understood?”

“Y- yeah.” Eggsy was quicker this time, still shaky, eyes still wide and breath still short. Merlin held him for another moment, staring into his eyes still. Harry could pinpoint the moment when he was satisfied, the very second he eased his hold on the boy and pulled back. He was slow, slow enough that the boy wouldn’t stumble from the shift of pressure, and once Eggsy was standing on his own, Merlin stepped back. Clearing a path for him, so that there was plenty of space in front of him to move around the bed.

Those wide green eyes turned to Harry then. Harry’s eyebrows arched, and he let his gaze move from Eggsy, to the empty space just in front of him, and then back to the boy. It was a cue the boy took; he pushed away from the wall, edged past Merlin, and rounded the bed slowly. With each step, he seemed to pull himself together again little by little. A mask falling into place, the boy building walls around himself to hide away his reaction to Merlin’s aggressive dominance. By the time he stood in front of Harry, he’d all but completely packed away his shock and fear and confusion. Instead of the defiance and rebellion from their first meeting, however, his mask was empty. It was an improvement Harry would accept for now.

“‘m sorry.” The words were mumbled, his eyes focused anywhere but on Harry. There was a sound from the far side of the bed, where Merlin still stood, and Eggsy quickly added; “I’m sorry for yellin’ at ya.”

There was a shift from where his bondmate stood, and Harry shook his head immediately, imperceptibly. The boy had apologized. Given the situation, even the barest apology was more than could have been hoped for when Eggsy didn’t know them, had no reason to trust them after the life he’d lived. It was a thought he conveyed wordlessly to the other alpha. Merlin nodded in return, understanding, agreeing, and accepting Harry’s decision without question.

“Good lad,” he said simply instead. Then, as something shifted in the boy’s rigid stance at the words, as something within him seemed to almost melt, Merlin moved around the bed. He passed by them, walking behind Harry to the door rather than passing behind Eggsy, and paused there, just shy of unlocking it. His next words were delivered as he turned to them both; “I’ve work to do. If yeh need me, Harry, I’ll be in my office. Behave Eggsy.” Then the door was unlocked and Merlin was through it without another word. Only when Harry heard the _snap-hiss_ of the privacy shields reactivating did he finally address Eggsy.

“I expect you have questions for me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right. I promise, I'm already halfway through the next chapter, so hopefully it won't be long before it's ready.
> 
> A question for you guys; would you be interested in seeing some of the world building information for the universe _Contention of Mastery_ is set in? Since the universe is a bit of a mash up of a few different types of AUs, and the societal dynamics are somewhat different?


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I asked you guys last chapter if you'd be interested in seeing some world-building information for the universe _Contention of Mastery_ is set is, and a few were interested. So! [Have a gdoc](https://docs.google.com/document/d/13gaFgjB6meun4IlzbsgwhMgh55Xc9eQGd0RLG0_uEJQ/edit?usp=sharing) full of notes about how things work, and why they're the way they are.

His pulse was racing, blood surging through his veins in a strange sort of heady way, his heart was pounding, leaping to his throat, and there was a feeling so foreign to him, he had to wonder if they’d fucking _drugged him_. What the _hell_ had been in that shot the doctor had given him? Cause it couldn’t’a been just something to knock him out, not with what had just happened. Because Eggsy had never, _never_ , in his entire fucking life, _ever_ felt the urge to just _submit_. And it was freaking him the fuck out.

It wasn’t that Eggsy _didn’t_ submit, because he did. He submitted because it was the only way to save and protect his mum and Daisy. When he did what Dean wanted, when he made the bastard money- running drugs for him, or running whatever tech the bastard’d most recently gotten his hands on, talking new customers into the latest black market body mods, sneaking into places to steal for him, letting Dean whore him out after he presented- he hurt Eggsy less. He _thought_ about hurting his mum and Daisy less. A happy Dean was one who wasn’t threatening the people Eggsy cared about, so he submitted to Dean, submitted to the trash Dean made him service- but he’d never _wanted_ to submit. He’d never felt that primal urge, instinct, to _obey_ and _submit_ that movies ‘n TV always showed, that they talked about on the news and all those reality shows pairing people off. He’d thought it was all just propaganda, made up shit to make arsehole alphas feel better about themselves when they treated omegas like trash.

But then, in the blink of an eye, there’d been _Merlin_. He’d felt it- he’d _felt_ the alpha’s anger, his disapproval. The air had gotten so fucking thick with the smell of it that, even with the huge bed between them, even with the familiar scent from the bastard who’d given him the medal still lingering in his nostrils from the bed and from where he stood at the door, suddenly all he’d been able to smell was _vanillaambercoffee_. Suddenly the scent’d been so thick he’d felt like he was choking on it, and his heart’d sped, and he’d felt like it would pound itself outta his chest.

And when the angry alpha had started _moving_?

Eggsy’d panicked without knowing why, and he’d had trouble breathing through that scent, through the sudden blinding need to _yieldobeysubmitsurrender_. He’d instinctively tried to run, except there’d been no where to go, the wall on one side, the bed and another alpha on the other, and then he’d backed himself into the corner and then there’d been the _alpha_. An arm on his chest, pinning him effortlessly, and he’d _never_ fucking felt like this before, he’d never _needed_ to submit, to listen, to do _anything_ to ease the biting scent that held him just as strongly as Merlin’s arm, but he _did_ feel it then, and it only got worse, stronger, as the man stared him straight in the eye, right in his face, and began to speak in that hard, rumbling voice.

He couldn’t remember every single little thing the alpha had said, he’d barely been able to focus through the need that’d been eating away at him- when at the same time, it’d been that _need_ that’d let him focus on any of it at all- but he’d understood enough. Protection- not just for him, but for mum and Daisy. And he had to _obeyrespectbehave_ , and when every instinct he had was screaming at him that he _had_ to _listenacceptsurrenderunderstand_ … It _freaked him the fuck out_ , but he’d found himself nodding, then speaking when _alphamyalph_ \- when _Merlin_ ordered him to, fuck his name was _Merlin_ , not _alpha_. And he _sure as fuck_ wasn’t _Eggsy’s_ alpha, he didn’t have no fucking alpha, slave or not. If thirteen years under Dean’s thumb hadn’t made the bastard his alpha, then an hour with a strange alpha wasn’t gonna do it. No way, no matter _how_ much his body betrayed him, how much he suddenly _wanted_ to-

_No_.

But Merlin’d said he was gonna try and get his mum, get Daisy, and make ‘em safe. That was worth obedience. _That_ was why he’d _obeyedacceptedagreed_. _Not_ because he was some useless slave ( _‘slave,’ ha_ ) to the instinct and need surging through him. No fucking way was it because of that. And it wasn’t cause the man was threatening to spank him either. Dean and plenty of others had fucking _beaten_ him before, cut him up, broken bones, used that fucking chip... A spanking would be a fucking walk in the park.

It was for mum. It was for Daisy.

So he’d shuffled past the alpha, around the bed to the _other_ alpha, shoving down all the feelings tumbling and swirling around inside him, and he’d apologized.

And he’d fucking _ignored_ the way, when Merlin called him a ‘good lad,’ a shiver had run down his spine- _happyalphagoodladalphawas_ \- and he’d focused on the alpha in front of him instead.

By the time Merlin was gone and out the door, and then he’d heard the tell tale sound of some kinda shielding activating, Eggsy’d gotten himself together.

( _It had nothing to do with how much easier it was to breathe with Merlin’s angry scent gone, with the lingering approval he’d left behind, it had nothing to do with that, it was just because he’d had time to calm down_.)

He was proud that when he snorted out loud at the man’s comment, it was only a little shaky.

“Ya fucking _think_?” Another snort, his tone disbelieving. He let himself slide into a familiar facade, one that said he wasn’t intimidated by anything, not even a couple of alphas or the way his own body was freaking him out. Ignoring the arched eyebrows the man was giving him, Eggsy stepped back, letting his eyes wander around the bedroom again. Fucking _huge_ it was, bigger than the entire flat he could barely remember from the days of _before_ , when him and his mum’d still been free. Then, instead of moving any closer to the bed, because like fuck he was tempting fate, he spun in place before walking casually past the man- _Harry_ , his name was Harry- to flop down artlessly onto a comfortable and old as fuck looking settee that sat across from the armchair Merlin’d been in when he woke up.

He was testing. Pushing. He needed to know where the alpha drew the line, how much the alpha’d let him get away with. And now he knew he didn’t care about the cursing- not on its own at least- and he didn’t care about Eggsy walking away and he didn’t care about how he sat down. And if pushing at his boundaries felt fucking good, helped him pull himself together after the _fuckery_ of emotions and urges still whirling around inside him, then- good.

Harry’s lips tightened- _fuck_ , no, fuck, why did that twist something inside him, he didn’t fucking _know_ this wanker, what the fuck had that doctor _given_ him?- and then he sighed and rolled his eyes before moving to the armchair. He leaned just lightly against it and just. _Looked_ at Eggsy.

He didn’t say a word, and he didn’t look like he was gonna say a word either. Instead he just stood there, one arm bending to let his elbow rest atop the back of the armchair, his head cocked just slightly to one and and he just _looked_ at him calmly.

He shoulda been able to deal with it. Some posh arsehole staring at him was a hell of a lot better than pretty much anything else he’d ever had to do when Dean whored him out. But after everything that’d happened since Henry- Harry- whatever the fuck his name was- had shown up at Dean’s, with the chip, and being taken, and the doctor and exam, and waking up in an alpha’s bed, and then his own fucking body turning against him… it was enough to creep him out.

“So you wanna tell me what the _fuck_ is goin’ on here?” It was the easiest place to start, yeah? And it let him push at the man more, try and find his buttons.

“I have freed you from a criminal’s ownership and taken you under my protection,” Harry deadpanned.

Eggsy stared at him. Harry stared right back.

Was he fucking serious?

“Are you fuckin’ serious?”

“Completely,” the posh fucker said, and then pushed away from the armchair to turn towards the huge desk across the room. As Eggsy belatedly noticed the matter converter tucked into the wall beside it, the man asked easily, “Would you like a drink? A tea, perhaps?”

Eggsy stared more. He stared incredulously until the alpha, having keyed in an order of his own and received what looked like a tall glass of some kind of beer, turned back to him and arched a cool, questioning eyebrow and commented easily,

“Don’t tell me you’re not thirsty. I’ve been under Tyronoe’s microscope, I know quite well what a harrowing experience it can be- one which can be assuaged with food or drink. If you’d like something, you need only ask.”

“Yeah?” Eggsy challenged, finally finding his tongue. “An’ how do I know ya won’t program it with some kinda drugs?”

“Eggsy.” The alpha paused, pinning him with a look, those dark eyes all but boring into him. “If I wanted you drugged, I’ve had more than enough opportunity. Why would I wait until now to try something of that sort?”

As little as Eggsy wanted to admit it, as much as he wanted to refuse to trust anything about the man, it was a good point. Hell, he’d _let_ the doctor shoot him up with something before, since the older omega had promised it was only something to help him rest; it would’a been the perfect chance to drug him up. But while they’d moved him into their fucking bedroom while he was out, they hadn’t actually done anything to him. ( _Yet, the paranoid part of him hissed. They hadn’t done anything **yet**._ )

Either way, Harry was right. There’d been plenty of chances before. And Eggsy _was_ thirsty, and he was _hungry_. He might as well just go on ahead and take advantage of the offer before the alpha got angry enough to take it back.

He pushed up, then, off the settee, and crossed the room quickly to grab at the drink the alpha had already made ( _Just in case, cause there was no way Harry could’a known he’d swipe his drink, so there was no way he would’a spiked it._ ), answering as he went; “I’ll have that, then. An’ somethin’ fancy to eat. Don’t care what, ‘s long as it’ll cost ya something.”

“Well, seeing as this is my own suite, and my own converter, that’s certainly a tall order,” Harry replied dryly, seeming mildly amused and unimpressed all at once at Eggsy’s order.

Fucking _personal matter converter_. Not one leased from the government. _Posh fucker_. It fucking figured.

“You’ll figure it out,” Eggsy snarked back as he returned to the settee, dropping back down and taking a drink of the beer he’d nicked. The beer that-

“Oh _fuck me_.”

_Fuck_ it was good. A lot better than the shit Dean always had for he and his boys, much less what he gave his _slaves_. Eggsy didn’t realize that he’d groaned out loud at the taste, didn’t realize what he’d said, until Harry answered,

“I rather thought that was the last thing you wanted.” The alpha was busy at the converter, keying in something or the other, and as Eggsy’s head whipped around in realization of what he’d said, the other man continued. “Whatever the case may be, I’m afraid I have no intentions of fulfilling that wish; neither Merlin nor myself are in the market for a sex slave. _Were_ we to accept a third into our relationship, they would need to be eager and willing, not angry and afraid.”

“ _I ain’t afraid_.” The exclamation escaped him like a shot, almost before the word had left Harry’s lips, and Eggsy resolutely stomped down upon the traitorous heat that washed through him at the thought of being a _third_ with the alphas who’d all but steamrolled him with their power, who smelled absolutely fuckin’ _intoxicating_ and were fit as _fuck_. The thought wasn’t arousing, no fuckin’ way, it was _disgusting_. He wasn’t attracted to them, not even a little bit. Determined that that in no way sounded appealing, Eggsy took a big swig of the beer to shore his determination against the treacherous emotions running rampant through him.

“There’s no shame in feeling fear. You’ve shown admirable courage and bravery from the moment I laid eyes on you. When one has led the kind of life you’ve been forced into, however, fear can be healthy thing.” Harry turned away from the converter as he spoke, a tray in his hands that he carried over to set on the small coffee table between the settee and armchair. As he lifted a glass identical to the one Eggsy held and settled into the armchair, he added; “Especially when you still have loved ones you wish to protect. Rest assured, Merlin and I _will_ find a way to remove your family from Baker’s ownership.”

“ _Why_?” The word was out before Eggsy could even think, and as soon as it left his lips he wanted to swallow it back. He didn’t need to question it, he didn’t _want_ to question it, because if he questioned it, they might change their mind. Harry might realize that he already had what he wanted, since he’d taken Eggsy for some reason he still couldn’t figure out, so why did he need Eggsy’s mum and sister? But- _why_? Why did Harry and Merlin care? The question filled his mind, rolling around and around, blanking out all other thoughts except for his fear. He shouldn’t have asked, but- he had. And he wanted to know.

“I owe your family a debt, Eggsy.”

The words hit him like ton of bricks. The steady look leveled at Eggsy, the sincere depth of Harry’s tone, were unfathomable. The alpha _meant_ what he’d said. And he wasn’t finished.

“Your father died saving my life; he died because I missed something that would have cost the life of every man there had he not intervened.” There was a pause, Harry’s voice heavy and somber, and the regret that shone in his eyes looked _real_. “I gave you his medal so that you would be able to call for help should you or your mother ever need it, and then I walked away and never looked back. That too was a mistake. You and your mother are in this position because of my mistakes and my neglect.”

He should be angry. He should be _enraged_. He should feel vindicated, that the alpha was admitting to a mistake, admitting that it was _his_ fault Eggsy’s life had been shit since the day he’d handed the medal to him all those years ago.

He wasn’t. Instead, he was a confused ball of emotions, a swirl of sadness and pain, a sense of loss twisting together with longing, and something like- hope?

“What did Merlin tell you about us, before I arrived?”

And just like that, Harry was abruptly shifting the topic, pushing the tray on the coffee table towards Eggsy before leaning back to take a drink of his beer. It was almost enough to make Eggsy’s head spin- and it was also a reminder of how hungry he was. He hadn’t eaten in, fuck, he didn’t even know how long. He hadn’t eaten since before this entire thing had started, and he’d been unconscious _twice_ since then. And looking at the food now, he swore as his eyes widened and his stomach let out a rumble loud enough that someone probably coulda heard it even outside the privacy shielding around the room.

The spread was _huge_. There was chicken, sliced beef, fish fingers, bangers; peas, carrots, taters, green beans; rolls, mash, chips, pie. Eggsy was pretty sure it was more food than he'd seen in one place in his entire life. It was difficult to tear his gaze away from it all to look up at Harry, his eyes wide as he asked; 

“Some of this is for you, yeah?”

“Not at all,” Harry answered calmly, a glint of amusement in his eyes. “Have I satisfied your challenge?”

“My- bloody hell, you was tryin’ ta- I can't eat all this, guv. I-”

“I wouldn't think so, no.” Harry only looked more amused as Eggsy floundered in shock, and continued with eyes shining with laughter. “Eat as much as you like, but don't feel obligated to finish it. Whatever you don't finish can be disposed of in the converter. In the meantime, you can share what you've learned from Merlin.”

“Right…” His eyes flickered back and forth, from Harry to the food to Harry and back again. Finally, deciding what the hell, he was fucking _hungry_ , he grabbed a plate of food and a fork, and began to tuck in. The alpha only leaned back and sipped at his drink, waiting patiently. Wait for… right, the question about Merlin. Completely uncaring that it was probably the worst kind of manners to talk with his mouth full, Eggsy answered;

“He didn’t tell me nothing except that the two of ya knew my dad.”

“I see.”

There was silence after that, filled with only the sounds of Eggsy eating. Every so often he’d sneak a look at the alpha between bites, and he looked thoughtful. Like he was trying to decide something. Probably how big a lie he wanted to tell him, the omega thought derisively. Whatever. If Harry didn’t wanna talk, fine. Eggsy would just eat everything he could.

He’d managed to get through almost half the spread by the time Harry spoke again.

“My name is Harry Hart. I’m a member of an organization called Kingsman; the medal of valor that you were given is one that is passed on to the surviving families of our members. Your father was in training for the position of Lancelot when he died during a mission.”

His gaze jerked up to the alpha at the words. His eyes narrowed, his fork dropping back down to the plate of green beans he’d been on.

“I ain’t never heard of anythin’ called Kingsman. My dad was in the marines when he died, not-”

“No. I _recruited_ your father from the marines. He’d been with Kingsman for over a year when he died.” Harry’s voice was even, calm, sure. Unquestionable. Eggsy questioned him anyway.

“There ain’t no way, bruv. If my dad’d left the marines, he woulda told mum, she woulda known. No way he woulda kept somethin’ like that secret from her,” he challenged.

“Kingsman is a highly secret organization that runs under the direct command of His Majesty Chester King; betraying that secrecy is a crime punishable by death. Had your father told your mother of the trials he was undergoing, he would have sentenced both himself and your mother to death. Not even you would have been spared, had you learned the truth, even as young as you were.”

The alpha’s words were smooth, calm and confident and undeniable, and it sent a shudder down Eggsy’s back. Could he really talk so casually about killing a _child_? But he wasn’t casual, not really, cause those amber coffee dark eyes were staring steadily at him, he could fucking _feel_ that gaze like it was goin’ straight through him. Like the older man could see straight into his soul, and the thought sent another shudder down his spine.

And then there was a thought, sudden and full of sharp adrenaline, and Eggsy shoved back in his seat, looking back at Harry.

“An’- what about now? Yer tellin’ me about it? Ain’t that breaking the fucking secrecy you’re talking’ about? You gunna kill me, then?”

The world sharpened, and his hair stood on end as his thudding heart sent his blood pumping through his veins at high speed. He readied himself to run, if he had to, at a moment’s notice, and his eyes darted away from the alpha, taking in the room again, looking for an escape route. The door was closest, but he’d heard it lock behind Merlin when he left, and then there was the fucking privacy shield he’d heard go up too. The windows were farther, an’ Harry was between him and them, and the privacy shield might block them too, but. Fuck, what the _fuck_ was he gonna do if-

“ _No_ , Eggsy.”

And just like that- the fear and adrenaline drained away. The surge of energy, the urge to run, all traces of ‘fight or flight’ just- it was gone, and he didn’t… It didn’t… The alpha’s voice was weird, and warm, and it flowed through him somehow. It wasn’t the electric shock that Merlin’s voice had been, nothin’ like that. Instead it was- it was like it just soaked into him, and left him almost floating. And the alpha was moving, was out of his chair, and he was comin’ over to him, kneelin’ in front of him, and the way he fuckin’ _smelled_. God _fuck_ , it was all he could smell, and he could _feel_ it, the warm power written in that scent, and it felt safe and it didn’t make any fuckin’ sense and why the _fuck_ was he reacting like this? He’d _never_ felt this way because of an alpha. Hell, he’d never felt _safe_ like this period. Not since he was a kid. Not since his dad never came back, and his mum fell to pieces, and his life went to shit.

He didn’t understand- but it didn’t matter if he understood or not. The alpha’s presence wrapped around him, and he leaned into it, leaned towards the alpha, like he was all that mattered in that moment, and he _was_. And the alpha- _his_ alpha, fuck he was _his_ wasn’t he, he could _feel_ it- spoke again, and he was all Eggsy could hear, his eyes all Eggsy could see.

“You’re safe; I swear it. You are mine, now, by the letter of the law, and not even the king himself can change that. I will see to it that the wrongs I’ve done to you and your family are righted, and I will see to it that you are _safe_.”

_His_. The alpha had said it. He was _his_. And fuck, _fuck_ , it should make him want to run, but he didn’t want to, and there was no fuckin’ way he meant it that way it sounded, he couldn’t, but every instinct the omega had said his alpha meant it _exactly_ how it sounded, and he was _his_. _**His** alphahewas **his** he’dsaiditandthealphawas **his** alphaandhewas **his** omega_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. Yeah. Hi. I'm so, so sorry for the long wait for this next chapter. I was being honest when I said I was all but halfway through it when I published chapter six, I promise. Unfortunately I had some health issues that I've been dealing with. Issues that aren't entirely as cleared up as I'd thought they were, or as I'd like them to be.
> 
> I want to give you guys fair warning; I don't know how long it's going to take the next chapter to come out. It's likely it'll be awhile, as I'm having trouble writing because of the aforementioned issues. I'll do my best, if it helps? I know exactly where the next chapter is going, and this story (plus _Kiss the Boy_ ) is my main focus for writing right now. 
> 
> Anyway, hopefully this chapter was worth the wait! ❤


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. I'm alive. And haven't abandoned this story. I promise. Please don't like, pelt me with rotten veggies for being gone for so long or anything? This chapter has actually been written for awhile, but. Life's been. Bad. So I hadn't gotten it shined up or posted yet for Reasons. But, here it is now, so enjoy?

“Is it true?”

The question was unexpected, as unexpected as presence of the man who was just now standing from Merlin’s chair, green eyes pinned on the Scot and narrowed. The serious look that flickered through those eyes was the antithesis of the man’s usual jovial countenance, and he moved up and out of the wizard’s chair with purpose.

“Is he here, Merlin? Is Lee Unwin’s son here?”

“ _Get out_ ,” he growled in lieu of an answer, his eyes narrowing as he glared the knight down. His blood was racing, anger and adrenaline rushing through his veins, and there was some small part of him that knew he was being unreasonable, that knew he was letting primal instincts control him. That small part of him went unheeded, lost as it was in a veritable tidal wave of white hot rage. He needed to _move_ , to _fight_ , there was a burning need to assert himself over anyone who _dared_ challenge him, and- _he needed control_. He needed to regain control of _himself_ , and to do that, he needed _space_.

James had frozen where he stood, all but pinned by Merlin’s gaze; eyes dark with heat watched the knight’s throat as he swallowed slowly, tracking the movement of his hands as he raised them even slower. The man moved like prey in the presence of a predator; wary, cautious, and unwilling to provoke. _Good_.

“Are you quite alright, Merlin?” The beta’s words were careful, as was his tone, as careful as he was in his movement as he stepped further away from the Scot’s chair and desk. It was a step closer to Merlin, and he growled low in his throat.

“He’s with Harry,” he spit out, and he stalked past Lancelot to his desk, somehow managing to ignore the burning desire to pin the man down and throw him the _fuck_ out of his office. Because his office was _his_ space, and the fact that James had infiltrated it without his permission was feeding the already burning flame of anger that raged in the pit of his stomach.

 _Lee’s boy_ was with Harry. _Lee’s boy_ , who had been through absolute fucking _hell_ in his very young, very hard life. Lee’s boy, who had been sold into fucking _slavery_ , and who instead of being cowed by it, had _thrown_ himself into it. Instead of being utterly crushed by the life fate had dealt him, he’d grown up strong. He’d stood up against the utter slime that owned him regardless of the abuse and horrors hurled upon him: he’d protected his mother when it should have been her protecting him, when there should have been someone to protect both of them, when neither of them should have _needed_ protecting: he’d done things that would make grown men break, just so he could protect his baby sister once she’d come along, when others might have resented such a babe instead. And he’d done it because his father, Lee Unwin, had died while under Merlin’s training and custody.

Merlin didn’t often let himself indulge in the guilt of lives lost in the line of duty. He was a handler and had been for decades. He was also _Merlin_ , and had been for decades as well. He had seen far too many lives snuffed out far too soon, often while half a world away and unable to do a damned thing about it. Lee Unwin had been one of the few he had had a front row seat for. Despite that fact, he’d long ago suppressed the guilt for the young man’s death, because he’d had to in order to move on and do his job.

It was that guilt that was flushing through him now. Had been threatening to since he’d realized the boy’s identity, especially after reading through his files and realizing the kind of life he’d led. He’d managed to suppress it still, however, in order to deal get the boy to safety, and to keep the boy out of Chester and Morgana’s hands. Then, seeing the fire in the boy’s eyes, and hearing the boy lay it all out before he and Harry… And seeing the boy lay the blame of it all so squarely upon his mate…

Something had snapped. Guilt had flared into flame along with the need to protect his bondmate, because while he had mastered his own guilt, _Harry_ hadn’t. And he _couldn’t_ let the omega feed fuel to the fire of Harry’s guilt and self-loathing for the mistake that had cost Lee Unwin’s life.

He wasn’t angry at the omega, not truly. Rather, in a sudden storm of anger at the ones who’d put the boy through such horrors, guilt for his own hand in the boy’s miseries, and an overwhelming, instinctive _need_ to protect Harry, he’d snapped at the closest target threatening his bondmate. That the target had been the omega himself was a fact that had been lost to the flames of Merlin's anger.

When he calmed, he knew somewhere behind the still swirling rage, he would regret what he’d said and done, but now?

“ _Now get out_ ,” he growled again at James, and set down into his chair, decisively turning to his station. He had work to do. Work that involved turning his rage towards the better target of Dean Baker and the mission.

But James didn’t leave. Instead, Merlin felt more than heard the beta take a step closer again.

“Tell me,” the beta said firmly.

Alpha instincts screamed, insistent that his authority was being threatened, that the beta was challenging him just as the omega had. Adrenaline surged through his veins for the second time in a far too short period. Merlin closed his eyes, air escaping his nostrils in a sharp breath, and he _fought_ against those instincts. Lancelot was _not_ challenging him. Eggsy _had_ , but only because he’d felt threatened, because he’d been _afraid_. Merlin _knew_ that.

 _Knowing that_ and _proceeding logically despite deeply ingrained primal instincts_ were two distinctly different things.

“We left Lee’s family unprotected,” was what Merlin finally answered. “They were sold into slavery.”

From the corner of his eyes, he saw Lancelot stiffen.The man’s scent flared, shifting, and Merlin could _smell_ the anger wash over him. _Good_. He came to an abrupt decision.

“I have a mission for you,” the Scot ordered, his tone deathly firm, his fingers flying across his keyboard, and James nodded. They had work to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's short. >.> Sorry. Brb, getting an umbrella to hide behind and fend off any projectiles, haha.
> 
> I am sorry, though, really. I won't go into details, but I'm still dealing with a shit ton of health shit that isn't going anywhere any time soon, and just keeps getting worse. The next chapter has been started, but writing is a thing that is difficult right now, so I have no idea when it'll be finished and posted. Whatever happens, though, I am NOT going to abandon this story. I love it far too much, and I wouldn't want to disappoint you guys any more than I already have. Just be patient with me, please. ♡


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY, so I haven't forgotten this story, I promise! I never will, I love it too much; even when I had no writing inspiration or ability, I've always had this chapter close in mind and the doc pulled up on a regular basis. I wanted to get it out sooner, but. Life.
> 
> Anyway: enjoy a glimpse of this story through Tyronoe's eyes!

It was a day of firsts, Tyronoe thought to himself in something between amusement and concern. He had seen Harry ‘Galahad’ Hart in many a state of disarray. He had treated him through the most grievous wounds and the worst kind of illnesses that could strip away the dignity of the best men. He had dealt with the man’s temper and almost-but-not-quite fear on the few rare occasions when his bondmate had needed treatment for some affliction or another. But he had never seen him in quite… _this_ state.

“He’ll be fine, Galahad,” he assured the alpha, pitching his voice gently, as he might to handle a wounded animal. Carefully he let go of the iron clad control he kept constantly over himself, letting his instincts flare, his scent calming and thickening around them. Harry wasn’t his alpha, but he was a man Tyronoe cared for and held in high respect; seeing him this agitated and worried pressed upon him a strong desire to calm and help the alpha center himself. “Tell me again what happened.”

Harry stopped his pacing to stand in between a pair of monitors, staring at them. One held Eggsy’s vitals, where Tyronoe was letting the system run scans over the young omega, and the other held the image of the slave himself. He was asleep several rooms away in the alpha’s bed, curled up and tightly ensconced within thick blankets that Tyronoe knew heavily held the scent of both Galahad and Merlin. Where Harry was a study in tense, almost anxious distress, Eggsy was perfectly peaceful in his rest. Oddly so, given the encounter Harry had described.

“I wasn’t there when he first awoke,” the alpha said, his voice deceptively calm. It might have fooled a mark, or perhaps even a distant associate, but Tyronoe knew him well enough to see straight through it. He was disturbed, and covering himself with his gentleman’s facade. “I interrupted a rather tense conversation when I arrived; the boy was unsettled- frightened.” Harry’s expression grew somewhat rueful here, “I’m afraid neither Merlin nor myself helped.”

“How so,” the doctor prodded gently, looking away from the agent to review the boy’s vitals slowly.

“He is rather an... enthusiastic young man.”

Tyronoe glanced from Eggsy’s vitals to the alpha; Harry’s expression was as carefully diplomatic as his tone.

“He has no reservation when it comes to expressing his opinions, and he has next to no filter regarding _how_ he expresses his opinion,” Harry continued.

“Ah,” the doctor answered, keeping his own voice neutral. Harry grimaced.

“Quite.”

The omega made a note to himself to review Harry’s glasses footage later, or perhaps Merlin’s. He had enough favors he could call in within the tech department that getting ahold of either should be possible. For now, however…

“I assume that between you and Merlin, Eggsy was exposed to an overabundance of alpha pheromones.”

“That is- one way one could phrase it, yes.”

Harry sighed softly, turning away from both the doctor and the monitors. His hands clasped behind his back, his body language a relaxed lie, and he spoke again.

“He challenged us and Merlin reacted… strongly. Afterward, I fed the boy and explained to him his situation. He panicked, and I reassured him that he was safe. It was after-”

“After that when he became pliant,” the omega interjected, taking one last look over the scans.

“Yes,” Harry said shortly. Tyronoe nodded his head and turned off the display.

“Outside of missions, you’ve never been in a relationship with an omega, correct? Or been close to an omega who’s being courted?”

Harry didn’t have to speak for the doctor to know the answer. It had been three years into Tyronoe’s slave contract, when he was still simply ‘David,’ that Harry Hart had joined Kingsman as Galahad. He knew Harry’s family and medical history, and Tyronoe had watched as he had grown from a fresh young recruit into an experienced Knight; the alpha came from a family of alphas and betas, and in all the time he’d been with Kingsman, he’d never had a serious relationship save for his bond to Merlin.

“No,” Harry answered succinctly.

“I thought as much,” Tyronoe said after a moment. The alpha looked askance at him, and he continued calmly. “It’s very rare, but an omega who has been subjected to extreme emotional duress can be left especially susceptible to the pheromones emitted by alphas with whom they are compatible. This is especially true if the omega has been in conflict with an alpha with whom they are compatible.”

Harry stared at him for a long moment, his face a perfect mask.

“I see.”

“Do you?”

Tyronoe kept his gaze steady, meeting the knight’s stare head on. The other man didn’t falter, but he could see the dawning realization settling. When he spoke again, the omega kept his voice gentle and firm.

“Eggsy is going to be fine. Let him rest, and I will watch over him. In the meantime, you may wish to speak to your bondmate regarding the confrontation with the boy, and his current state. I will send you both some reading material that you may find useful.”

“As you say,” Harry replied. Then, with a last look at the monitors, the man nodded his farewell and retreated from the room, leaving the doctor alone to watch over their charge.

The omega settled in for the wait, keying a quick note to Merlin that he would call the alphas once Eggsy had awakened and was ready for company, and advising him not to return until then. With that message sent, the doctor keyed in another note, this one to call in a favor owed to him by Niniane, one of the Ladies in Merlin’s department. Half an hour later, he received a response, complete with an attached video. What the beta had had to do for it, Niniane had begged him not to ask, so he didn’t. Rather, he keyed up the video to watch his charge’s encounter with Merlin.

David could count on one hand the number of times he had truly found himself angry with Harry or Connall. This… This would push him past that and onto the next hand. His gaze darkened as he watched Merlin stride out the door of he and Harry’s bedroom, and Tyronoe stopped the video there with a decisive flick of his hand towards the playback controls.

Omegas were looked down upon by all of society, Tyronoe knew well from experience, and that was never more true than when it came to the upper echelons of the kingdom. Serving as a slave, even a talented one, in the royal palace had been a trying experience, one that hadn’t become any easier after Morgana had taken him into Kingsman. Morgana had made it a point even, especially when he’d made his intentions to apply for the position of Thetis known, to make certain that he understood that omegas were meant to be controlled, were meant to obey and serve. That omegas existed and lived only by the whims of their alpha and beta masters.

But even Morgana, as strong an alpha as she was, as insistent as she was when it came to alpha superiority and omega inferiority… Even Morgana had known that there were times that an omega was not to be crossed.

Omegas might be considered by most to be the dregs of society… but there was one thing at which omegas _excelled_. And _that_? Was protecting those they cared for.

Eggsy Unwin was under Tyronoe’s care. And Merlin? Merlin had made a mistake in the way he had treated the young omega.

A flick of Tyronoe’s hand swept the video away, locking it within Tyronoe’s personal files. Another, longer, glide of his hand brought up a keyboard and an open, blank message. Tyronoe entered Merlin’s name in the address bar, and then began to type sharply.

He got no further than the first few sentences before a low groan sounded over the monitor. Where his ire had been sharpened at Merlin’s behavior, it smoothed for the moment, his gaze abandoning the message to turn to the feed into the alphas’ bedroom; Eggsy was shifting slowly, waking. Tyronoe set his anger aside, tucked it away deep within himself, knowing that after what had happened before, the young omega would need something more calming as he returned to awareness. He wrapped around himself instead his calm concern for the boy, and stood to make his way to the bedroom, saving and closing the unfinished message.

When he reached the bedroom, the young omega was just pushing himself to sit up in the bed, his arms trembling minutely as they bore his weight up. His eyes were wide, his breath short and shaky as he looked around the room, clearly unsure of himself and his position. Tyronoe knocked on the doorframe before he stepped inside, unwilling to startle the boy any more than he already was; Eggsy’s eyes shot to the older man immediately, and it was only through watching him keenly that Tyronoe caught the way he relaxed the slightest bit.

“May I come in,” he asked calmly, meeting Eggsy’s gaze evenly.

The boy nodded, slowly, and answered, “Y- yeah. Alright.” Then, after a beat, added, “It’s jus’ you, right?”

“It’s just me,” Tyronoe confirmed, stepping inside fully and letting the door close behind him. He waited for a moment, until he heard the _snap-hiss_ of the privacy shields engaging, to speak again. “Neither Merlin nor Harry will be returning until I have given them leave to. You’re safe here, Eggsy.”

“Safe,” Eggsy echoed softly, and he shifted on the bed to sit up further and get comfortable. His brows furrowed together, his expression some mix of troubled, confused, and uncertain. “Tha’s- That’s what Harry said… I think?”

“He did, yes.”

It was good that Eggsy could remember that so quickly upon waking; while he was sure the boy would recover shortly, and while it _was_ possible for an omega to respond strongly to the pheromones of an alpha with whom they were compatible, Eggsy’s reaction had been an especially strong one. It was the strength of his reaction that had Tyronoe’s concern raised: it was a sign that Eggsy was indeed exceedingly compatible with Merlin, Galahad, or both. It was the sign of a rare depth of compatibility that he intended to keep a very careful eye on.

“I feel- I feel funny,” the younger man murmured, his gaze drifting away from Tyronoe and focusing inwardly. “Fuzzy ‘eaded. What-”

“You had a bit of excitement earlier.” He paused there, his gaze sharp and assessing as he ran it over the younger omega. “When Merlin was here with you and Harry? Do you remember that?”

The boy’s brows furrowed, his eyes moving to follow a tableau that Tyronoe himself couldn’t see- but he _had_ seen it. He knew exactly what events the young omega was recalling, even as he maintained his own calm rather than reacting outwardly to the memory of it himself. Eggsy would need a grounding stone, as the events washed over him again, and that’s what Tyronoe would be for now.

“Merlin…” Eggsy’s voice shook a little as he said the name; not in fear, although the boy would most likely mistake it as such, but in something that was almost awe. He shuddered with the name, with a look in his eyes that made David inhale deeply, slowly. _That_ was a sign, and one that could mean there would be complications in the near future.

“Merlin was here, yes,” he repeated, keeping his words slow. Giving the younger man time to process them as he tried to process what had happened.

“He was so- _angry_ ,” the boy murmured, and he shuddered again. His green eyes slid closed, and Tyronoe watched as he breathed in deeply, centering himself. The scent of him was confused, a roiling mixture of uncertainty and desire and a sort of eager longing. “I wanted- I had ta- had ta-”

“It’s alright, Eggsy,” Tyronoe said, his voice soothing. He stepped over to the bed, sliding down to sit on the edge of it, facing the younger omega. “You don’t have to do anything. I know that it might have felt like it-”

“ _No_ ,” the boy interrupted, and his eyes snapped open; they were clearer this time, and there was certainty and anger and confusion, all writ in his gaze. “I _had_ to. I had to- what did I have to?”

“You didn’t _have_ to,” Tyronoe repeated softly, and then, quieter, he added, “but you wanted to, didn’t you.”

It wasn’t a question. The anger in Eggsy’s voice faded, as did the certainty, leaving only confusion. The boy’s voice was soft, impossibly young, as he asked, “Why did I want ta make him- ta make him…. Pleased?”

The older man sighed, licking his lips as he considered how to respond. Eggsy was still at least half under, at the moment, the lingering effects of his exposure to Harry and Connall not yet faded. It meant that he needed to be careful with the boy. He laid his hand gently atop one of Eggsy’s own, where it was bunched in the duvet.

“Eggsy, with your change of circumstance, a very abrupt change I might add, your body is under a lot of stress. For an omega, such as you and I, sometimes that kind of stress can trigger an instinctive reaction to others around you.” He paused, meeting Eggsy’s gaze even, carefully letting nothing slip into his own scent other than calm reassurance. “Specifically, it can trigger a reaction to alphas you might be near. You’ll find that- you want to seek comfort, if there is an alpha nearby that you are compatible with. You may find being near that alpha makes you feel protected, safe. Sometimes, you’ll even find that you want to make them happy, or please them.”

There was a moment of silence after he said it, and it was clear that Eggsy was remembering again. His voice was slow still, when he did reply, still lost in his thoughts and memories. 

“Tha’s how Harry made me feel. Like- like I believed ‘im, when ‘e said- when ‘e said I was safe.” The boy’s brows furrowed, his confusion clearly and visibly deepening. “I don’t- I don’t ever believe no one that easy…” He trailed off, and there was a some esoteric conflict that Tyronoe could just see waging behind his eyes, fighting to push through the fog of endorphins he was still mired in. A sort of panic that was trying, and mostly failing, to break through the floaty feelings he was lost in. “If- if this is some kinda instinct thing, does tha’ mean it ain’t real?”

“It’s complicated,” Tyronoe found himself answering, and then immediately added, “I don’t want you to doubt that Harry and Merlin will do their best to keep you safe; they will, as will I. I will do everything in my power to protect you, Eggsy, and I know both Harry and Merlin will too.” He paused, giving Eggsy’s hand beneath his own a gentle pat, and then continued, “What it does mean, however, is that I want you to be very mindful when you’re with them, especially if you feel at all stressed. I want you to try your best to remember that there is _nothing_ that you _have_ to do with or for them.”

“But-” And then Eggsy cut off, the panic trying again to peek through his haze. “What about me mum and sister? Merlin said-”

“ _Merlin_ said that they would be safe no matter what,” Tyronoe said firmly, projecting assurance towards the young omega. “Harry will back him up, have no doubt of that.”

And Tyronoe would make sure both men carried through on that promise, come hell or high water. He would use whatever threats necessary on the alphas to make _sure_ they carried their promise through.

“Trust me on this. They’re both alphas, yes, and can be as hard-headed as alphas come sometimes, as you’ve already seen… But they’re good men. They won’t let your mother or sister come to harm.”

“Right,” Eggsy mumbled, as if trying to convince himself. It made a part of David’s chest tight with regret, that even through the haze of endorphins and alpha pheromones in which the young omega was still mired, he was that unsure, that afraid and untrusting. It told as much as a story of the boy’s life before now as his medical scans had.

He made a promise to himself- or rather, renewed the promise he had made already, once he had realized the kind of life the boy had lived. David wasn’t the type for revenge or violence; he was Tyronoe, a doctor, and his field was one of healing and life. Working for Kingsman, however… He cared for those whose field often _was_ death. He intended to make sure that one of his agents took the man who had caused Eggsy Unwin’s life to be such hell _into_ death.

“Eggsy,” he said, making a decision. “I have a young woman I’d like you to meet once you’re feeling up to some company. She’s your age, and since one of her fathers is one of my regular patients, she all but grew up around here. I think you’d get along well.”

There was a moment, as if Eggsy was having a bit of trouble processing the request, but then he nodded, with a mumbled, “Yeah, alright.” Then, closing his eyes and inhaling deeply, he asked, “But- can I get some sleep first? ‘M tired…”

“Of course,” Tyronoe answered, smiling gently. He patted the boy’s hand again, then pushed up to stand. “Rest. I’ll keep watch, and I promise you won’t be disturbed.”

Eggsy nodded again, and shifted back on the bed. Tyronoe had barely reached the door to deactivate the privacy shielding to leave before the younger omega was asleep again. David slipped out, closing the door and returning to the station he’d set up to monitor the boy. He had several messages to write and send out to set his plans in motion.

**Author's Note:**

> If you're on tumblr, you can find me at [MakethWoman](http://makethwoman.tumblr.com)!


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